<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401</id><updated>2011-04-21T17:29:16.819-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The 5 Foot A s s a s s i n</title><subtitle type='html'>&lt;i&gt;"Let's go get the shit kicked out of us by love."&lt;/i&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>163</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-5771513461225480116</id><published>2007-12-17T21:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T21:59:12.022-05:00</updated><title type='text'>let's talk about boredom again</title><content type='html'>i am about to tear my eyeballs out.  i have a few general complaints about my life right now.  all but one are career related.  (the one is that i have all coupled friends and sometimes that is a bit lonely, but that is not the point of this post).  i feel like i could be doing so much more with my life.  i love the children in my class, i love teaching them, i love helping them learn the lessons of life....i'm just a little bit bored of the day to day conventions of my job.  i feel like i could be doing a lot more with my life right now.  i have a great job, i just feel like i need to be doing something wildly exciting and thought-provoking.  which is why i want to go to africa and study early childhood education.  good thing i speak french.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-5771513461225480116?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/5771513461225480116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=5771513461225480116' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5771513461225480116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5771513461225480116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/12/lets-talk-about-boredom-again.html' title='let&apos;s talk about boredom again'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-7703156589312141867</id><published>2007-12-03T22:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T22:10:28.312-05:00</updated><title type='text'>thomas the tank engine pajamas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/R1TFF4EcerI/AAAAAAAAAOk/BDaWJwPfagw/s1600-R/DSCN0432.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/R1TFF4EcerI/AAAAAAAAAOk/E8uOEk9nIVo/s400/DSCN0432.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139949779477625522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-7703156589312141867?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/7703156589312141867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=7703156589312141867' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7703156589312141867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7703156589312141867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/12/thomas-tank-engine-pajamas.html' title='thomas the tank engine pajamas'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/R1TFF4EcerI/AAAAAAAAAOk/E8uOEk9nIVo/s72-c/DSCN0432.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-6305088518567014965</id><published>2007-11-29T23:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T23:09:23.247-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Perfect</title><content type='html'>I am so pumped about this: www.chac-mool.com!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone want to go with me?  Maybe the summer or even earlier, this spring?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-6305088518567014965?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/6305088518567014965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=6305088518567014965' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/6305088518567014965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/6305088518567014965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/11/perfect.html' title='Perfect'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-7024834623980253414</id><published>2007-11-20T23:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T23:37:56.600-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's ok, I'm used to it.</title><content type='html'>Yep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I am really happy right now.&lt;br /&gt;2.  I want to go home.&lt;br /&gt;3.  My sister passed her comps!  Yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-7024834623980253414?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/7024834623980253414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=7024834623980253414' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7024834623980253414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7024834623980253414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/11/its-ok-im-used-to-it.html' title='It&apos;s ok, I&apos;m used to it.'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-8749743839552868112</id><published>2007-11-17T23:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T23:34:05.148-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fort Rock</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rz_AN1xXxVI/AAAAAAAAAOc/qowF-AlnzLA/s1600-h/DSCN0210.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rz_AN1xXxVI/AAAAAAAAAOc/qowF-AlnzLA/s400/DSCN0210.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134033444230645074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I CANNOT WAIT to go home for Thanksgiving this year.  I really can't wait.  I should've taken the entire week off and just left this weekend.  I can't wait to see my friends and my family.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking about how much I valude family.  And how really, my friends are my family.  I was talking to my dad about my friends Nina, Beth and Jackie and how we've been friends for about 14 years.  14 years!! Really?  Best friends for that long??!!  yikes.  I literally feel like I just met them in middle school yesterday.  My dad was saying how it's rare that people keep friends for that long...most people meet their best friends in college and then struggle to maintain relationships with them, with the exception for one or two BEST friends.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I am extremely lucky to be blessed with so many close friends in my life.  I have fantastic old friends who know me better than anyone.  And I have fantastic new friends who just seemed to fit into my little puzzle.  It is so wonderful.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend when I was out to dinner with my friends and their dates, boyfriends or husbands...I came to the interesting realization that I am their single friend.  I mean, Ryan is single too, but really, she dates a ton!  Beth is single, but she's all the way out in California.  Nina's engaged, Jackie and Katy have very serious boyfriends, Lyndsi, Lori Jo, Nanette are all married.   What have I gotten myself into!?  It's not a bad thing, it's just interesting I suppose. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One funny thing about this observation is that Nina, Beth, and Jackie have known or met every guy I've ever been in a relationship with.  And I think their honest opinions were that they never really "loved' any of them.  Sure, they liked some of them, sure they said, "If he makes you happy, that's all that matters," sure they said endearing things like, "Oh Kate, he's so nice.  He seems to really like you...blah blah blah horseshit."  But they never really loved, gushed, adored anyone.  This is interesting because I have loved and do currently love the guys they are with.  Anyway, I really value their opinions so this bit of information is important to me.  I guess this is all just me thinking aloud, doesn't mean much except that I LOVE MY FRIENDS!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to go home and cuddle with my sister on the couch and try to give her loads of kissesssssss :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-8749743839552868112?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/8749743839552868112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=8749743839552868112' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/8749743839552868112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/8749743839552868112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/11/fort-rock.html' title='Fort Rock'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rz_AN1xXxVI/AAAAAAAAAOc/qowF-AlnzLA/s72-c/DSCN0210.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-3293277945752485251</id><published>2007-11-13T23:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T23:27:43.392-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Bret,</title><content type='html'>Since you are one of, mmmm, maybe three people that read this blog, I want you to know that none of my hater posts are directed at you.  I love you and your extremely cynical opinion of the fictional character Dr. Gregory House.  Don't you fret none, ya hear?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;kt&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-3293277945752485251?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/3293277945752485251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=3293277945752485251' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/3293277945752485251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/3293277945752485251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/11/dear-bret.html' title='Dear Bret,'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-6728475990402185047</id><published>2007-11-13T17:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T17:27:24.668-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What the hell have I been doing!?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RzoiOcplSNI/AAAAAAAAAOU/UTMjB1m3hmM/s1600-h/halsey_wake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RzoiOcplSNI/AAAAAAAAAOU/UTMjB1m3hmM/s400/halsey_wake.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132452356946217170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love kurt halsey (thank you artstarphilly.com).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FREAKING OUT! is what I've been doing.  I feel like my life has become so hectic towards the end of the semester...except that nothing has really changed, it has just all culminated all of a sudden and settled in my body.  So I have this dumb vertigo...and I feel like I'm drunk.  That's the best way I can describe it...you know when you're drunk, and you can like see what's going on around you and you can talk to people, but you're in your own little drunk world?  Well yea, that's how I feel all the freakin time.  It sucks!  It's really not as fun as it may seem.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot believe that next week is Thanksgiving!  This will be the first Thanksgiving without my granmda in 23 years.  WEIRD.  and sad, and it's probably not going to be fun.  There are more people coming to my aunt's house this year than have in the past, so that's exciting.  My cousin's fiance's family is coming, and another cousins girlfriend is coming, so that should be fun.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's some food for thought.  What the hell is up with people's priorities!?  Get your life in gear bitches!  It's exhausting to think about.  I feel like I have been an exceptional friend to a few people lately.  I don't want to say I expect nothing in return, because that would be a lie.  I expect time and respect in return.  That's a normal request.  Nothing above and beyond the normal limits of friendship.  C'mon guyssss...pull through and surprise me :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-6728475990402185047?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/6728475990402185047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=6728475990402185047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/6728475990402185047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/6728475990402185047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/11/what-hell-have-i-been-doing.html' title='What the hell have I been doing!?'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RzoiOcplSNI/AAAAAAAAAOU/UTMjB1m3hmM/s72-c/halsey_wake.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-8042550269324425276</id><published>2007-11-01T22:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T22:31:19.890-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it boredom?  I crave fun.</title><content type='html'>I know I have a pretty full life.  It's full.  It's jampacked.  It's tubular.  I know this.  Then why am I bored?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I was babysitting and when I was putting the little 7 year old girl to bed, she asked me, "Kate, are you married?"  And I said, "No, I'm not."  She said, "Well, why not?  You look so pretty with your hair down, why aren't you married?"  I said, "Well, I am young, and I haven't found a man that I want to marry yet, or one that wants to marry me.  Two people have to agree that they want to spend their lives together if they are going to get married."  She said, "Oh, then how do you sleep?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that really struck me.  I was going to write on this blog today about how I kept overhearing conversations on campus today like, "OMYGOD, I've never been soooo drunk!!"  or "I don't know what happened to my magic wand..."  But anyway, this bedtime-tuck-in conversation seemed a lot more intriguing.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of nights it's true that it is lonely, though I have gotten a little bit more used to it.  After living with someone, I think you get used to having a body in bed with you...and even if you just have roommates, you at least have someone to go in and bother (LAUREN).  But I guess the interesting thing about my little friend asking me these questions is that I wonder if it is a basic need for humans to want to sleep with someone else there.  I try not to look at it through the attachment issues looking glass since I am all too familiar with it, but do we really crave that attachment?  Do we want someone there?  Personally, I like to have a warm body next to me, but just the right distance next to me while I'm sleeping.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here's the THING...I'm not sure if it is a need per se...I think it just might be more fun.  Having someone there to talk to, to play with, to do stuff with, to confide in...it just makes life more fun.  So sometimes when I'm home at night and I feel lonely...I think it's also because I'm a little bit bored.  I do plenty of other things that should ease this boredom...but ya know, maybe you just want someone to cuddle with or perhaps drink some beers with...or just talk to about your day?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-8042550269324425276?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/8042550269324425276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=8042550269324425276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/8042550269324425276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/8042550269324425276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/11/is-it-boredom-i-crave-fun.html' title='Is it boredom?  I crave fun.'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-8178137550478788206</id><published>2007-10-30T20:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T20:59:29.970-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Old Kate</title><content type='html'>I know that I have not written about London yet...but I will, I promise.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But some other things have been on my mind lately.  Like...how do you know when people are lying?  How do you know when people are sincere and genuine?  I hate that I don't know this anymore, I used to have such faith in my gut instinct, and now I feel like I have no idea.  I think everyone is lying...ALL THE TIME!  I wish I didn't feel like that, I just don't know who to trust, or who I can trust.  Sometimes I feel like I can confide in people, then something small will happen, I overanalyze the shit out of it like I always do...and there I am, doubting everything.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to look at things positively and be happy and thoughtful and genuine...so why aren't people the same to me?  I feel like I deserve people to be the same towards me.  Is that selfish?  Though I feel like I have come so far (which is AWESOME)...still how long will it take to get the Old Kate back? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realized 95% of this post is questions.  Haha...oops.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-8178137550478788206?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/8178137550478788206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=8178137550478788206' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/8178137550478788206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/8178137550478788206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/10/old-kate.html' title='Old Kate'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-3962047540743584675</id><published>2007-10-25T23:01:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T23:02:21.146-04:00</updated><title type='text'>whoa</title><content type='html'>lots of things have happened in the past two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i went to london.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i have more time, i will write about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-3962047540743584675?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/3962047540743584675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=3962047540743584675' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/3962047540743584675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/3962047540743584675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/10/whoa.html' title='whoa'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-60587294909426977</id><published>2007-10-11T23:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T23:43:27.330-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Transparent or Opaque</title><content type='html'>People are so complex.  I have been thinking a lot lately about how we get into each other's heads.  Why do we crave knowing what other's are thinking?  I am always wondering what other's are thinking, feeling and churning around in there.  Why?  Why do I even care?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think maybe it has to do with my appreciation for honesty.  I am someone who, for the most part, tells the truth.  I'm not perfect, sometimes I lie..but even in those situations, when it comes down to it, I come out with how I really feel.  When you've been through a situation or incident where you end up getting hurt by lies, I think you gain a new appreciation for honesty.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humans are smart.  We are clever beings.  We have the skills for deception and also the ability to become completely vulnerable by telling the truth; but in my experience I've found that you employ one or the other.  People who lie are usually afraid of being vulnerable, afraid of letting their internal core get rocked by someone else's truth or worse...their own.  People who are wide open are often seen as crazy or overwhelming.  Obviously, we should all have internal boundaries, we should always be protecting ourselves.  BUT WHY DO PEOPLE LIE!?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being caught up in a web of your own lies is difficult to deal with...being the victim who is being lied to is a whole different story.  It makes you lose trust and it makes you lose faith.  I do know, I am aware, that I can only control myself.  I hope that I have chosen people to be my friends that are honest, good people...I think this time around that I have.  I hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-60587294909426977?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/60587294909426977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=60587294909426977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/60587294909426977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/60587294909426977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/10/transparent-or-opaque.html' title='Transparent or Opaque'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-2385454353206277007</id><published>2007-10-10T19:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T20:02:49.041-04:00</updated><title type='text'>be over already</title><content type='html'>you know how some days you look at yourself in the mirror and you're like "guuuuhhhhh, ew?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yea.  sorry mirror, tomorrow will be better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good news...i got a wage$ check today...right in time to go to London.  funny how the universe works.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-2385454353206277007?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/2385454353206277007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=2385454353206277007' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2385454353206277007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2385454353206277007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/10/be-over-already.html' title='be over already'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-1834669624609586150</id><published>2007-10-09T22:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T23:19:40.230-04:00</updated><title type='text'>it's called procrastination...</title><content type='html'>and I'm doing it right now.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't midterms and this week just be over already so I can:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 - go to NY and see my soon-to-be-gallbladder-less sister&lt;br /&gt;2 - get fitted for my best friend's bridesmaids dress&lt;br /&gt;3 - see Lo&lt;br /&gt;4 - GO TO LONDON!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;5 - Did I mention...GO TO LONDON!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other good news...tomorrow I'm getting a countertop - finally!  Dear reader, if you are a twenty-somethings female...don't ever remodel your kitchen without help.  I have no idea what I was thinking!  I mean, I'll admit that I'm pretty proud of myself -- but at the same time, I may or may not have an ulcer from this experience.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's something I write about often...the internet.  Why do people think this is a venue for secret messages?  I'll never understand it.  It drives me bonkers.  There have been several occassions recently where this topic has come up...people saying, "Oh, they can see that?"  The internet is public people...it's public!  Other people can see what you are doing!  CHULLO?  Anybody is home in dere?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, lying doesn't do anyone any good.  Lying = bad.  Note to everyone...stop lying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, now that that stuff is out of the way...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'M GOING TO LONDON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RwxEk70k3qI/AAAAAAAAAOM/NU6qehYkuzU/s1600-h/images-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RwxEk70k3qI/AAAAAAAAAOM/NU6qehYkuzU/s400/images-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119542277737602722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear London, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you in exactly one week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;Kate&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-1834669624609586150?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/1834669624609586150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=1834669624609586150' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/1834669624609586150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/1834669624609586150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/10/its-called-procrastination.html' title='it&apos;s called procrastination...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RwxEk70k3qI/AAAAAAAAAOM/NU6qehYkuzU/s72-c/images-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-5660007430253069103</id><published>2007-10-08T22:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T22:43:47.347-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Letting It Go</title><content type='html'>Did you ever have one of those epiphanies out of the blue where you realize something will just work out, it will just be o.k.?  Well I don't have them often because I stress out randomly about dumb things...but this weekend...I had several.  When I feel stressed out I try to think of the serenity prayer...and remember that I can't control other people or situations...I can only control myself.  However, I rarely believe this in my core.  Like I just don't let things go...but it's weird, I feel like I have let a bunch of things go recently.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever seen the movie Enough with Jennifer Lopez?  Her husband is abusive and she runs away from him, then she trains in martial arts and ends up kicking the shit out of him.  She becomes the powerful one.  That's me.  I don't give myself enough credit for how far I've come...and now that I have started to really remember who I am...I am able to let things go.  It's a weird feeling, awesome, but weird.  Like I literally feel like a weight has been taken off my shoulders.  It really is awesome. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess this is kind of inspiried by the movie I saw this weekend, The Brave One, with Jodie Foster.  Now I'm not going to go around shooting people for justice...I'm just saying - maybe it takes different amounts of time for each of us to work things out in our brains, or our hearts...(ok, and maybe some people would rather shoot their enemies).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a funny note - in the movie, Nicky Katt plays the secondary Detective to Terence Howard's character.  You may remember him from Boston Public...he's been in a bunch of other things too.  Anyway, there is this one scene where there are two dead guys on the subway train which is stopped at a station - and one of the bodies is hanging out the door.  So the police arrive at the scene - and Nicky Katt's character is like witty, funny guy in this movie - he approaches the body, looks down, and says, "Christ on a cracker!"  O.k. - well this is juxtaposed with this very sad, serious scene with jodie foster crying --- and what am I doing in the theater?  HYSTERICALLY LAUGHING.  Is that wrong?  Did I ruin that scene for everyone?  Nobody else was laughing.  But, I mean, c'mon, he said "Christ on a cracker!"  Anyway that was the funniest thing I've heard in a movie besides, "It rhymes with smushmortion."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-5660007430253069103?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/5660007430253069103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=5660007430253069103' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5660007430253069103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5660007430253069103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/10/letting-it-go.html' title='Letting It Go'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-2844876039516081884</id><published>2007-10-06T01:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T01:46:36.559-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hamlet</title><content type='html'>I think that sometimes, people sort of forget that we are who we are.  Change is not easy.  Sometimes we fight change, sometimes we are forced to change, and sometimes we have such willpower, that we work as hard as we can to make change happen.  I feel like deep down though, we are just us...a unique person, unlike any other person that has lived before us, at the same time as us, or will ever live.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight at Ryan's pumpkin party, it was pointed out while playing CatchPhrase, that I am very competitive.  This is completely true.  I have played sports my whole life and I went to a high school where everything was cut-throat...grades, sports, extracurriculars, the clothes on your back.  However, I feel like as I've gotten older, I have managed to not care about outcomes so much...but I am intense and I do like to play as such...this is not a problem in sports or friendly games...but it's totally a problem in real life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are all judging each other.  We are all sizing each other up to see what qualities we possess versus what others possess.  I feel like it takes a lot to really know yourself deeply, what your wants, needs, and feelings really are.  IF we are unhappy with ourselves is it because we feel we are inadequate or is it because we really just don't know ourselves?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I bother myself.  I find myself comparing myself to others...and I lose sight of who I am and what I'm about.  I feel like I need to change to be someone I'm not instead of embracing my own uniqueness.  This post is a reminder that I am who I am...I don't need to change to please anyone, unless that anyone is myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-2844876039516081884?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/2844876039516081884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=2844876039516081884' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2844876039516081884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2844876039516081884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/10/hamlet.html' title='Hamlet'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-1868793176926341115</id><published>2007-10-03T22:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T23:04:04.277-04:00</updated><title type='text'>DOMO ARIGATO GOZAIMASHITA</title><content type='html'>I'm really tired, I got home really late and I have a ton more studying and work to do...but real quick...tonight was my belt graduation!  I was so excited for it...I didn't officially invite any friends because I kind of chickened out, it's kind of scary having people watch while you are violently attacked and have to defend yourself.  Anyway, it was great!  I have to say, I'm pretty dang proud of myself.  This is mainly because I have basically been a yellow belt for a year.  I kept getting sick and having to miss a lot of class, so it has taken me forever to graduate.  Some friends I have made there that started at the same time as me are now blue belts as of tonight.  It is so exciting for everyone.  I felt like I did a pretty good job during my demonstration, some of my katas were a little sloppy, but it goes so fast it's hard to correct yourself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterwards Sensai Broom came up to me and gave me a big hug and told me he was proud of me.  He is amazing.  Rachel was saying how she felt kind of silly because during the belt presentation she had "that warm, fuzzy feeling."  But actually I kind of felt that way too.  Rachel and Mike have lived here for two years, and Rachel was saying that the dojo is like the first real place where she feels that she has genuine friends, genuinely good people, people who have values and people who care...in the whole time she's lived here.  It is true that the people who are really there to stay are amazing.  They are all so interesting and just so real.  For me, studying ninjutsu has changed my life.  To actually follow the Code of Mindful Action that we recite at the beginning of each class, you will, without doubt, become an amazing person.  I'm getting there...slowly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-1868793176926341115?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/1868793176926341115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=1868793176926341115' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/1868793176926341115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/1868793176926341115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/10/domo-arigato-gozaimashita.html' title='DOMO ARIGATO GOZAIMASHITA'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-1307757933991701423</id><published>2007-10-02T23:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T23:42:28.351-04:00</updated><title type='text'>27510/27514/27516</title><content type='html'>As midterms start to sneak up on me...I have been spending more time on campus.  and on a side note i got an awesome parking spot tonight between davis and hamilton.  anyway, I just have been so busy that I hadn't been enjoying chapel hill and carrboro as much as i know i usually do.  so tonight after i left the library, i went for a walk around campus by myself.  I LOVE the smell of campus (and yes, I associate it with a very specific smell).  I love the smell of fall, and I love the sense of crispness that comes with fall.  I really like walking on the brick pathways...I always say this to my friends, but I just think it is amazing how old unc chapel hill is - and that these pathways, and especially their surrounding trees, were the very pathways and the very trees that were there when the university was founded.  that just boggles my mind, it blows me away.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I'm feeling extra Chapel Hill-ish, I might go to The Skylight Exchange tomorrow and get a milkshake.  I feel like not a lot of students at unc even know that skylight exists.  well guess what kiddos, it does...and they have awesome sandwiches and milkshakes.  It's kind of like the Chelsea movie theater - I know that the Varsity has many independent films too - but the Chelsea is your best bet for independent and foreign if you don't want to go to durham or raleigh.  I love this place (this does not change that  I might want to move, haha).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I had an awesome conversation with the woman who cut my hair today.  She is one of the owner's of syds that I hadn't met.  Which we both laughed at, considering that's ridiculous since I've been getting my hair cut there for 4 years.  Anyway, she kind of reminded me that I'm awesome.  Is that weird to write?  haha, I guess cutting, coloring, styling people's hair, you get into pretty lengthy conversations with people...and you get to sort of see into their lives.  so she saw into my life a little...and we talked about my new house and my job and all the things i do.  if you are close with me at all, you know that i am EXTREMELY HARD on myself.  extremely.  and you know that I get ridiculously stressed out at things that don't matter.  at all.  so a lot of the time, I don't even think about how much I enjoy doing the things I'm doing and I'm not proud of my accomplishments because I unrealistically expect better than my best.  (i know, i know, it's an issue, i'm working on it).  so anyway, my hairdresser Erin, made me feel awesome about my life.  She even told me some, what she called "inspiring" stories about friends shes had that have been in similar situations as me.  and she was like, think of it like this, "you can travel whenever you want, with whoever you want or no one at all...I'm jealous."  Ha, I know right?  And I am doing just that. So Erin, thanks for the inspiration and the validation.  Not only did I get a new haircut, but I got a fantastic life lesson!  Erin is another reason I love chapel hill...people like her can be found here.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and one more issue.  if you are easily spooked, or freaked out, stop reading now.  ok, well earlier this afternoon, the remote on my coffee table started shaking back and forth, and i put my hand on the table to see if it was vibrating, but it wasn't...then at school, a book on the shelf started like shaking kind of while it was just leaning upright(my coworker saw this too), then just a little bit ago, the touch lamp that has three settings, it randomly started going from 1-2-3-1-2-3 without anything touching it, like i even went over to see if there was like a bug or something that was hopping on it - nope, no bug.  no mouse.  no velociraptor.  just a ghost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's easy to forget, sometimes we just forget&lt;br /&gt;And being on this road is anything but sure&lt;br /&gt;Maybe we'll forget, I hope we don't forget&lt;br /&gt;- Yellowcard&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-1307757933991701423?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/1307757933991701423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=1307757933991701423' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/1307757933991701423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/1307757933991701423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/10/275102751427516.html' title='27510/27514/27516'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-6856506397136220646</id><published>2007-10-01T22:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T22:36:42.331-04:00</updated><title type='text'>sometimes my faith in the human race is restored</title><content type='html'>Will: So, when did you know, like, that she was the one for you? &lt;br /&gt;Sean: October 21st, 1975. &lt;br /&gt;Will: Jesus Christ. You know the fuckin' date? &lt;br /&gt;Sean: Oh yeah. Cus' it was game six of the World Series. Biggest game in Red Sox history. &lt;br /&gt;Will: Yeah, sure. &lt;br /&gt;Sean: My friends and I had, you know, slept out on the sidewalk all night to get tickets. &lt;br /&gt;Will: You got tickets? &lt;br /&gt;Sean: Yep. Day of the game. I was sittin' in a bar, waitin' for the game to start, and in walks this girl. Oh it was an amazing game, though. You know, bottom of the 8th Carbo ties it up at a 6-6. It went to 12. Bottom of the 12th, in stepped Carlton Fisk. Old Pudge. Steps up to the plate, you know, and he's got that weird stance. &lt;br /&gt;Will: Yeah, yeah. &lt;br /&gt;Sean: And BAM! He clocks it. High fly ball down the left field line! Thirty-five thousand people, on their feet, yellin' at the ball, but that's not because of Fisk. He's wavin' at the ball like a madman. &lt;br /&gt;Will: Yeah, I've seen... &lt;br /&gt;Sean: He's going, "Get over! Get over! Get OVER!" And then it HITS the foul pole. OH, he goes apeshit, and 35,000 fans, you know, they charge the field, you know? &lt;br /&gt;Will: Yeah, and he's fuckin' bowlin' police out of the way! &lt;br /&gt;Sean: Goin', "God! Get out of the way! Get 'em away!" Banging people... &lt;br /&gt;Will: I can't fuckin' believe you had tickets to that fuckin' game! &lt;br /&gt;Sean: Yeah! &lt;br /&gt;Will: Did you rush the field? &lt;br /&gt;Sean: No, I didn't rush the fuckin' field, I wasn't there. &lt;br /&gt;Will: What? &lt;br /&gt;Sean: No - I was in a bar havin' a drink with my future wife. &lt;br /&gt;Will: You missed Pudge Fisk's homerun? &lt;br /&gt;Sean: Oh yeah. &lt;br /&gt;Will: To have a fuckin' drink with some lady you never met? &lt;br /&gt;Sean: Yeah, but you shoulda seen her. She was a stunner. &lt;br /&gt;Will: I don't care if Helen of Troy walks in the room, that's game six! &lt;br /&gt;Sean: Oh, Helen of Troy... &lt;br /&gt;Will: Oh my God, and who are these fuckin' friends of yours they let you get away with that? &lt;br /&gt;Sean: Oh... They had to. &lt;br /&gt;Will: W-w-w-what'd you say to them? &lt;br /&gt;Sean: I just slid my ticket across the table and I said, "Sorry guys, I gotta see about a girl." &lt;br /&gt;Will: I gotta go see about a girl? &lt;br /&gt;Sean: Yeah. &lt;br /&gt;Will: That's what you said? And they let you get away with that? &lt;br /&gt;Sean: Oh yeah. They saw in my eyes that I meant it. &lt;br /&gt;Will: You're kiddin' me. &lt;br /&gt;Sean: No, I'm not kiddin' you, Will. That's why I'm not talkin' right now about some girl I saw at a bar twenty years ago and how I always regretted not going over and talking to her. I don't regret the 18 years I was married to Nancy. I don't regret the six years I had to give up counseling when she got sick. And I don't regret the last years when she got really sick. And I sure as hell don't regret missin' the damn game. That's regret. &lt;br /&gt;[pause] &lt;br /&gt;Will: Wow... Woulda been nice to catch that game, though. &lt;br /&gt;Sean: I didn't know Pudge was gonna hit a homer.&lt;br /&gt;- Good Will Hunting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;someday :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RwGuhEFmv8I/AAAAAAAAAOE/PeCvnXZaTu4/s1600-h/DSCN0582.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RwGuhEFmv8I/AAAAAAAAAOE/PeCvnXZaTu4/s400/DSCN0582.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116562534725763010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanks for being real, thanks for restoring the faith :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-6856506397136220646?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/6856506397136220646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=6856506397136220646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/6856506397136220646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/6856506397136220646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/10/sometimes-my-faith-in-human-race-is.html' title='sometimes my faith in the human race is restored'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RwGuhEFmv8I/AAAAAAAAAOE/PeCvnXZaTu4/s72-c/DSCN0582.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-284928187987777935</id><published>2007-09-26T18:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T20:56:47.076-04:00</updated><title type='text'>If you were worried...</title><content type='html'>there's no need to be anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found my passport.  HAHAAAAAAAAAAAA.  It was in a folder that I ingeniously labeled "Travel Documents."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;go figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALSO:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEAT BRAZIL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  let's go Scurry, make it happen girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lilly, keep it together.&lt;br /&gt;Womback, you are a beast, use this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-284928187987777935?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/284928187987777935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=284928187987777935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/284928187987777935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/284928187987777935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/09/if-you-were-worried.html' title='If you were worried...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-5076350638188742608</id><published>2007-09-25T22:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T23:56:48.579-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Max</title><content type='html'>Ok, one of the great things about going home is getting to go through all my stuff.  when i essentially moved into my own permanent place in nc, my parents made my room a guest room.  so they put all my shit away in drawers and closets.  and when i go home, i pull it all out and go through it.  so i brought my high school yearbook back home to nc with me.  it is amazing for all of the awesome quotes that people made.  my favorite part is the "Favorites of the Class of '02."  Favorite Hangout: The Max.  HOW AMAZING IS THAT!!!  i forgot that was in there.  i mean, my graduating class loved saved by the bell. i do have a ton in common with jessie spano, except she is wayyyy taller.  but seriously, i was so jessie spano when she took caffeine pills in high school, i freaked out about academics all the time...HAHA.  i miss The Max (aka Gino's), which is where we hung out for lunch and late nite.  ive been so nostalgic about ny lately, and i blame this on facebook.  now that i can see all my friends' every move, all i want to do is go hang out with them.  guhhhh.  i would like to note: i do love carrboro, haha.  carrboro, it's not personal.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's the thing, the first 18 years of my life, i never had to feel restless, because i always had a huge city to run to when i was feeling bored or unstimulated.  as soon as i got to college, i could never get settled.  i picked northwestern for academic reasons, not because i liked it the best.  i made great friends there, i loved chicago, but i had to get out of there.  then i wound up at home, but i had to get out of there.  then i ended up coming to nc, after transferring to another local college.  i love nc, but now i feel like i need to get out here!  what the hell is wrong with me!?  i have an awesome life here.  i own a house, i have great friends, i have a wonderful (though sorta thankless) job which i love, i have hobbies like improv and ninjutsu that i can really excel at in this area, and here i am wanting to say peace out.  i have no reason to leave here.  at all.  but then i have this erratic behavior and drive to ny for the weekend just to get away.  wtf.  i have been writing a lot about moving to rome, because really, i feel like i have no reason to stay in  nc --- but thats bs - i have plenty of reasons!  maybe the answer is that i start making lots of money so that i can travel whenever i feel like it and take long vacations and see places and meet new people and never feel like i am grounded when actually i really am.  ok?  make it happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exciting news!  i am stoked about a new improv team i will be on!  it is so awesome, a bunch of people i really enjoy improvising with are on the team.  in fact, these are people who i have had the most fun with in the entire time i've been improvising.  it is so wonderful and i am really thankful that i have made such awesome friends who will now be on my team :)  i have worked extremely hard in the past couple years to find a good niche with good people, and now i feel like i have finally found it!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, i know i should buy healthy cereal.  but c'mon!!!! i loooove cinnamon toast crunch, corn pops, cocoa puffs, fruit loops, and oh's.  i love them too much, ok?  i won't give them up for some dumb Smart Start or Kashi.  just like i won't give up my chipotle addiction.  (i will note though that i have cut back on my chipotle intake due to a change in my eating times).  jerri noticed today that i lost weight and phylinda told me im pretty, so i feel validated enough to continue to ingest nutritionally shitty cereal.  screw you, kashi!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Notes: &lt;br /&gt;1. I am STOKED for sunset grill with my mom and dad (aka lyndsi and wesley) and then Grey's on Thursday!  &lt;br /&gt;2. I am STOKED for Lori Jo and Nathan's wedding!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  It's so HARD to believe that the wedding is actually this saturday.  I feel like we have been talking about it forever and now it's a reality!&lt;br /&gt;3. I love my kiddos more and more everyday.  and i am STOKED about that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-5076350638188742608?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/5076350638188742608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=5076350638188742608' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5076350638188742608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5076350638188742608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/09/max.html' title='The Max'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-3773559160953455296</id><published>2007-09-24T21:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T22:35:37.682-04:00</updated><title type='text'>an adventure</title><content type='html'>NY. we were a little crazy.  it's true.  but it was soooooooooo fun!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rvhz1EFmv7I/AAAAAAAAAN8/0ieMkjlEdts/s1600-h/DSCN0566.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rvhz1EFmv7I/AAAAAAAAAN8/0ieMkjlEdts/s400/DSCN0566.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113964732346711986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we left after work and drove straight up to my house.  the drive was not so bad on the way up.  OBVIOUSLY we got taco bell.  it was great, because taco bell is fantastic for any occassion.  anne drove first, then ry, then i scared them with my crazy new york driving skills through new jersey, brooklyn and queens.  it was pretty fun bc ryan and anne kept asking me "what's that? where are we?"  haha.  i also enjoyed the tutorial i gave...pay attention here...apparently southerners don't know anything about NY geography. Manhattan is an island.  when people talk about NYC, they are usually talking about the things that reside on the island of manhattan.  NYC is actually made up of five boroughs, two of which are on the island of Long Island.  the boroughs are Manhattan, Staten Island, the Bronx, Brooklyn and Queens. long island has two additional counties, nassau and suffolk.  this had to be explained over and over and over and over...but i think the message eventually got through.  i felt like i did my part to educate anne and ry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway back to the story.  i had a plan to take them to central park to walk around a bit.  then to go to w. broadway in soho and shop. then to the san gennaro feast, dinner at la mela, broadway show.  MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so we took the train into the city early sat morning, it was beautiful, we get to columbus circle = pouring down rain.  ryan bent over to fix her jeans...this women with a cart skoots by her and says "i can see your underwear."  HAHAHAHA.  Ryan says, "Thanks!" like as politely as she can.  people in ny dont do polite...so the woman did not turn around and say "youre welcome." haha, it provided great entertainment for us though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we walked around, showed them the carousel, the pond, playground, baseball field.  we took a carriage ride which i had never done before and went on a quick tour.  we didnt get to go to the zoo, the theater or tavern on the green -but thats ok.  then we went way downtown shopping.  obviously i spent forever in anthropologie.  i bought a hand-knit hoodie and a pair of black pants.  ry bought like 3 pairs of jeans.  then we went to canal st.  and ry and anne were scared.  haha. but good news -- i got a new manhattan portage bag! and some earrings.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then we went to little italy and ate zeppoles and it was great.  i talked about eating them all day, and told anne and ryan that theyre the best food ever.  they said i was right.  whew, thank goodness they validated that, huh?  haha.  then we had an awesome dinner at la mela.  i love eating there, even if it can be touristy.  i also love a great restaurant in times square on 8th called John's pizza thats a little touristy, it used to be a church...anyway that's neither here nor there.  la mela was great, as always.  i loooooooooove their rigatoni.  most people adore the gnocci there, but it's far too heavy.  i always eat like 8 helpings of rigatoni and then like 3 tartufos.  anyway, i think anne and ry liked it alot, so i was very excited about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then we saw The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee on broadway.  HILARIOUS.  funniest production ive seen in a while, definitely funniest one ive seen on broadway.  ry and anne loved it, so phew!  i felt the pressure taking them around showing them stuff, and i was hoping i didnt pick a shitty play...but good thing, it was awesome!  the characters and the actors were great and the theater was small and we had awesome seats.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we walked through times square and ryan was freaking out, telling me i need to tell her where every single thing is - though in times square, what you see is what you get. so i tried to point everything out but i think she may have thought i wasnt telling her everything.  it was good to walk through at night, bc everything was lit up, it looked beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sunday we got up early and went to the empire state building.  in the 20 years i lived in NY full time, i had never been up there.  sad right?  but i pointed out everything fantastic to ry and anne, including my house.  you can't really see it but you can see the general direction.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we also realized we ate a ton of awesome food this weekend.  including: the awesomeness of Taco Bell, Ny bagels n cream cheese, ny pizza, zeppole, ny italian at la mela, ny deli bacon egg n cheeses, ny deli turkey sandwiches, and some smoothies.  geez!  we were only there for like 40 hours haha!  anne and ry would eat something and be like "this is sooo good!"  i agreed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so lauren met us for all of these festivities.  and let's just talk about her for a second.  i love her.  i miss her so much.   it fucking suckkkkkssssssss.  she always tries to convice me to move back to NY and i tell her to come back here.  i feel like my life here is incomplete without her.  guhhh, sigh.  come back best friend :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's lots more to write, but im too tired right now.  more to come..........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-3773559160953455296?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/3773559160953455296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=3773559160953455296' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/3773559160953455296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/3773559160953455296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/09/adventure.html' title='an adventure'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rvhz1EFmv7I/AAAAAAAAAN8/0ieMkjlEdts/s72-c/DSCN0566.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-5611583492357116198</id><published>2007-09-20T21:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T22:28:09.233-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yesssss</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RvMfhUFmv6I/AAAAAAAAAN0/1ocs5XoxYrE/s1600-h/DSCN0506.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RvMfhUFmv6I/AAAAAAAAAN0/1ocs5XoxYrE/s320/DSCN0506.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112464659184009122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a quick update, since you are dying to know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good Things:&lt;br /&gt;...the DMB concert was pretty good.  They played a bunnnchhhhh of stuff from Under the Table and Dreaming, which was pretty sweet and pretty nostalgic.  I am in love with Boyd Tinsley's biceps.  Thank you, Boyd, for wearing a Carolina blue beater to play this show.  Really, I could've gone completely by myself because I get so wrapped up in the music that I am completely oblivious to everything else going on around me.  I mean, I did, of course, become best friends with the girl standing next to me, haha.  Her name was Erin.  We talked mostly about the concert and she talked a lot about her boyfriend.  Then she told me I was pretty and asked me why I didn't have a boyfriend.  And then I cried a little inside.&lt;br /&gt;...we are going to NY tomorrow.  It's going to be great because I will get to show two NY virgins the great city of Manhattan.  Hopefully the leaves have turned at least a little bit.  They have here already, so I assume NY will look beautiful.  We are going to see Spelling Bee, which I'm pretty psyched about because it's supposed to be hilarious...and I could use a little hilarious.  I also plan to take Ry and Anne shopping...prolly a little Soho and Canal st.  That will be an experience.  Then dinner in Little Italy, and some feast of San Gennaro...so I can eat some fried dough.  I am thrilled to get out of here this weekend.  I just need this trip before my heart explodes.  &lt;br /&gt;...i already did all my homework for next week.    &lt;br /&gt;...i lost weight.&lt;br /&gt;...i bought new jeans.&lt;br /&gt;...my belt graduation is in two weeks!!!!  Hopefully my friends will come see me be an ultimate fighting champion and fight some black belts (since that's what you do at a belt graduation).  I feel bad asking people to come, but I want someone to take pictures of it!  I also want them to see the dojo so they will get hooked on how awesome it is to be a ninja and they will join too :)  Really I just want someone to ground fight with that is not afraid of hurting me or me hurting them...is that so wrong?     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not So Good Things:&lt;br /&gt;...remember how my mind and my heart got so fucked up from my last relationship?  yea.  that's hard. &lt;br /&gt;...the internet is public.  so if you are posting things on it, other people can see it.  some girls try to be sneaky assuming others are stupid, some girls are just dumb, others are just mean.  any way, it's not nice.  occassionally I write about others, but mostly to complain, never to be rude.  &lt;br /&gt;...i'm sad because I miss cory.&lt;br /&gt;...my toe really hurts still from when I messed it up at taijustu.  It's the most ridiculous yet debilitating injury in the world.&lt;br /&gt;...door to door, almost to the minute, it will take us 9 hours to get to NY...haha that's a long time...what am I thinking taking a weekend trip? HAHA!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-5611583492357116198?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/5611583492357116198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=5611583492357116198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5611583492357116198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5611583492357116198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/09/yesssss.html' title='Yesssss'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RvMfhUFmv6I/AAAAAAAAAN0/1ocs5XoxYrE/s72-c/DSCN0506.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-8584411966737482803</id><published>2007-09-16T22:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T23:09:42.368-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ninja Parties</title><content type='html'>My main motivation in attending this ninja party was to get to know people outside of the context of the dojo.  I mean, I see these people several times a week, but I never really get to know them know them, because we have like a random couple minutes to talk before or after class and then people peace out.  Let me start out by saying: Mission Accomplished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Bryan picked me up in his ridiculous car (which by the way, is amazingly fun to ride around in), and we went on an adventure to find Harris Lake.  We had fantastic conversation about studying to be ninjas and he revealed his ultimate secret of his full-back ninja tatoo, pretty amazing.  We found this park, which was awesome!!!  It was also like 75 degrees out today and absolutely perfect.  I'd never been to that park and I think I like it better than Jordan Lake.  I plan to walk/hike there a bunch this fall after today's discovery.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I learned sooooooo much gossip.  I couldn't handle it...I can't handle it!  Haha.  It's so funny to just learn about people's real lives that happen outside of the dojo.  I got to see what people's families looked like, how people really treat their significant others, what their kids look like, who's dating who secretly but not so secretly.  It was fantastic and fascinating.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The majority of the day, however, was Mike making fun of me and my pathetic little life.  He was having a field day (all in good fun I should add) with my failed engagement and the lack of recent guy activity in my life, my unfinished ridiculous kitchen project, my slow belt promotion, and my failed attempts to make significant relationships (haha, which is a joke because of our ninja code of mindful action).  It was great fun for everyone...haha.  I'm glad I could be a source of amusement.  But seriously, I enjoyed myself very much.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I went on a walk with Ry and her mom.  And they both gave me some very insightful advice about all of the issues in my life.  I had just been talking about George, and then patty called me and left me a voicemail saying that she wanted me to know George loved me.  And then I cried.  Anyway, Ry's mom is very emotionally connected, which I love, because I don't think many people in my life are.  She was very wise and it was nice to hear her advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I still have no one to go to give my extra concert ticket to for Tues.  Great, that sucks.  I literally have no one left to ask!  It's cool, I will be happy to chill with katy and christopher.  Anyway, I'm STOKED cause I look forward to this every year, and now it's finally here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We might go see a Broadway show next weekend on our spontaneous road trip to NY.  I want to see Mary Poppins, cause I've never seen it.  Though I could see Ave Q again, and I could DEFINITELY see Phantom or Les Mis like a billion more times each.   Plus the San Gennaro feast is going on nowwwwww!!!!  I may need to make an appearance, haha.  Really I just need to get some zeppoli...southern people don't even know what that is....which is why I need to get the hell out of here before my head explodes....just for a little.  I have seen so many facebook pics of my friends all back living in NY...and it makes me want my old life back.  To just say fuck what I have here and what I've worked hard for here.  I don't really mean that, I just miss them.  I miss house parties, backyard decks, cute dresses, the shocker pose, Gino's and bracketed, seeded, meticulously calculated  Beirut tournaments :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-8584411966737482803?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/8584411966737482803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=8584411966737482803' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/8584411966737482803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/8584411966737482803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/09/ninja-parties.html' title='Ninja Parties'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-8317394155519354857</id><published>2007-09-15T11:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-15T21:27:51.889-04:00</updated><title type='text'>On Trying Hard to Get Drunk...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Ruxa0tll2LI/AAAAAAAAANs/z7eG3hZDgD4/s1600-h/LJ.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Ruxa0tll2LI/AAAAAAAAANs/z7eG3hZDgD4/s320/LJ.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110559538795632818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*** for some reason my computer is not letting this post right-side up, so you'll just have to turn your head&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The party was a complete success.  Lori Jo had no idea the extent of who we invited and everything we had done.  She was so sweet about it too, she kept repeating, "You guyssss!  You have no idea what this means to me!"  I was really excited about that only because I don't think that anybody else in her wedding party except Lyndsi organized anything for her.  Lori Jo is one of those amazing people that you just love to be around and I am extremely blessed to be friends with her.  I think she really liked the lingerie I got her too, because it's "our" color.  Whenever one of us wheres this bold blue/blue-greenish teal color, the other always points it out.  When I first told her it looked good on her, she went home and shopped online for it, she's hilarious.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the party was awesome.  Dinner at the Brewery was fun...my boss is AWESOME!  Her husband is the brewmaster there, so he was downstairs while our party was going on.  When LJ was opening all of her gifts of ridiculous slips and panties, my boss would hang them over the balcony and yell, "John, CHECK THESE OUT...WHOOOOOOOO!!!"  Then when she was done, she turns back at us and says (NO JOKE), "I think all of those men down there are getting hard-ons!"  OMGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!  That was one of the funniest things I've ever witnessed.  I love my job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we went to East End for the majority of the night, so as to maximize the drinking/dancing possibilities.  LJ did her list of stuff, though no guy would give her his boxers.  She did get the $10 from a guy that I made her get...even though she felt extremely guilty about it...muhahahahaha.  We were out fairly early, by 9:30...and they had a band playing there.  They were pretty good, and LJ became friends with the lead singer because he kept making announcements in the mic that we were there to celebrate her.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so I COULD NOT get drunk.  I drank beer at dinner, had a martini, a GnT, 2 beers and 4 shots...and I was not even remotely drunk.  I mean, I was slightly buzzed.  After Katy bought me a beer when we were dancing and I finished it with lame results, I just gave up and decided to stop spending money.  It was weird, it was like I was not allowed to get ridiculous, the Gods were working against me.  I had an amazing time anyway.  We all danced for hourrrrrsss upstairs at East End.  I LOVE dancing with Shawanda, because she's amazing.  She is so adorable, and she's short like me, so I bum all of her moves.  There was a ton of booty shakin, haha...cause Latesha and Laurinda both stayed to party.  It was so GREAT!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I have been training really hard the past month or so at Ninjutsu.  I have been going to the taijutsu class pretty consistently and I have been pushing myself so hard hitting the standing water bag that I am starting to get blisters on my knuckles.  and this is after I got new awesome new gloves.  haha, I'm so hardcore.  Anyway, today I'm pretty sure I broke my toe.  It's all nasty, bloody under my toenail and black and blue.  guh-ross.  So now I can't hardly walk.  Now I'll have to wait it out for a few days until it heals and I can walk normally.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ninja party tomorrow!  Spontaneous trip to NY next weekend!  Lori Jo's wedding after that!  Pumpkin carving party after that!  NY and LDN after that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-8317394155519354857?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/8317394155519354857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=8317394155519354857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/8317394155519354857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/8317394155519354857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/09/on-trying-hard-to-get-drunk.html' title='On Trying Hard to Get Drunk...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Ruxa0tll2LI/AAAAAAAAANs/z7eG3hZDgD4/s72-c/LJ.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-300229515593318630</id><published>2007-09-13T21:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-13T22:28:48.949-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Penguins Update, The Kitchen and some other things I've realized...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runr1dll2II/AAAAAAAAANU/t1JM060AWVQ/s1600-h/DSCN0432.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runr1dll2II/AAAAAAAAANU/t1JM060AWVQ/s320/DSCN0432.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109874555936430210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look!  A Penguin!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so my class is definitely the strangest class at our center.  I loveee the kiddos, but dang, sometimes they are just so bizarre.  Anyway, I have been so busy so far this semester that I haven't had time to do a bunch of the projects I've wanted to do at work.  One of which are sneaker planters to hang outside.  I got this idea from the Inclusion Conference, Outdoor Learning Environments.  You get old sneakers, fill them with dirt and plant some seeds in the heel, then hang them from a fence or a tree by the shoelaces.  It's adorable and it's awesome outdoor natural artwork...something our playground needs immensely.  So in the meantime, I had been working on this book for my Penguins.  It's about all the things they do in the classroom.  Each page has a penguin that one of the kids has colored and some hilarious captions that I wrote about the pictures.  I finally finished it today and was so proud of myself that I took pictures of it...and you, dear reader, have the privilege of seeing it here first hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runkqdll16I/AAAAAAAAALk/flHy2L2dbBg/s1600-h/DSCN0439.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runkqdll16I/AAAAAAAAALk/flHy2L2dbBg/s320/DSCN0439.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109866670376474530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runkqtll17I/AAAAAAAAALs/dhqn1uDZwh0/s1600-h/DSCN0440.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runkqtll17I/AAAAAAAAALs/dhqn1uDZwh0/s320/DSCN0440.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109866674671441842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runkq9ll18I/AAAAAAAAAL0/jL9kfwBStwA/s1600-h/DSCN0441.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runkq9ll18I/AAAAAAAAAL0/jL9kfwBStwA/s320/DSCN0441.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109866678966409154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RunkrNll19I/AAAAAAAAAL8/9QOWBAaI6mM/s1600-h/DSCN0442.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RunkrNll19I/AAAAAAAAAL8/9QOWBAaI6mM/s320/DSCN0442.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109866683261376466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runkrtll1-I/AAAAAAAAAME/yaXe25XuSfE/s1600-h/DSCN0443.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runkrtll1-I/AAAAAAAAAME/yaXe25XuSfE/s320/DSCN0443.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109866691851311074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runlidll1_I/AAAAAAAAAMM/kPvfBSmAGIE/s1600-h/DSCN0444.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runlidll1_I/AAAAAAAAAMM/kPvfBSmAGIE/s320/DSCN0444.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109867632449148914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runlitll2AI/AAAAAAAAAMU/Wp44gykdTtg/s1600-h/DSCN0445.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runlitll2AI/AAAAAAAAAMU/Wp44gykdTtg/s320/DSCN0445.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109867636744116226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RunljNll2BI/AAAAAAAAAMc/Ci26jQbRQCY/s1600-h/DSCN0446.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RunljNll2BI/AAAAAAAAAMc/Ci26jQbRQCY/s320/DSCN0446.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109867645334050834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runljdll2CI/AAAAAAAAAMk/TR2gwRIfL9s/s1600-h/DSCN0447.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runljdll2CI/AAAAAAAAAMk/TR2gwRIfL9s/s320/DSCN0447.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109867649629018146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runlj9ll2DI/AAAAAAAAAMs/peCAAAfUGqE/s1600-h/DSCN0448.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runlj9ll2DI/AAAAAAAAAMs/peCAAAfUGqE/s320/DSCN0448.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109867658218952754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Kitchen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so my kitchen is not done  (OBVIOUSLY) but I thought I would post some pics of the udpates.  Ignore that I have no molding, no toe-kicks, an unpainted dry-walled wall, a fucked up tile wall that will eventually get retiled...oh, and no countertop yet.  But the cabinets are beautiful and I wanted to take pictures of them, so here they are :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RunnwNll2EI/AAAAAAAAAM0/qSvT9BDQVG8/s1600-h/DSCN0450.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RunnwNll2EI/AAAAAAAAAM0/qSvT9BDQVG8/s320/DSCN0450.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109870067695605826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runnwdll2FI/AAAAAAAAAM8/aHsJVZKJ9Z8/s1600-h/DSCN0451.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runnwdll2FI/AAAAAAAAAM8/aHsJVZKJ9Z8/s320/DSCN0451.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109870071990573138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runnwtll2GI/AAAAAAAAANE/YN-ob-ezJbk/s1600-h/DSCN0452.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runnwtll2GI/AAAAAAAAANE/YN-ob-ezJbk/s320/DSCN0452.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109870076285540450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runnw9ll2HI/AAAAAAAAANM/1x_KjpXNcnk/s1600-h/DSCN0453.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runnw9ll2HI/AAAAAAAAANM/1x_KjpXNcnk/s320/DSCN0453.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109870080580507762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Models of Early Childhood Services class is definitely one of the best classes I have ever taken at Carolina.  Dr. Palsha is amazzzzing!  She knows everything and something I really like about her is that she tells personal stories about her experiences, and they are actually meaningful and relevant to what we are learning and taking away from class.  As a Bio major, I did not have too many professors that told anecdotes that were interesting or pertinent, except for Dr. Church who taught my Pathology class, cause he's the bomb too.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today in class we read the story I posted below (A Trip to Holland).  I love stuff like this because it always reassures me that I am in the right field, and I am doing what I do for a reason.  I just adore children with special needs and I cannot imagine my life not working with children that are disabled or terminally ill.  This class has given me a much needed boost professionally, and I am very appreciative of Dr. Palsha's enthusiasm.  I am thinking about asking Sensei Broom about starting a program to teach Ninjutsu to children with special needs.  Martial Arts are one of the sports that I feel like everyone can do no matter their ability.  I would love to teach a class like that.  My time is really limited, but that is just an idea right now that I wanted to write down.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I am always talking and complaining about my romantic relationship situation...and today in class I realized some things.  I don't think I'm upset about the fact that I'm not married or in a serious relationship right now.  I'm upset because I value family so much, and I want to have a family with a really healthy home life.  For me, that would mean a husband.  I'm not looking for one, so you need not apply...but I do want to have a baby at some point with someone I love AND who loves me back (that's the important part).  I've also decided after that one baby, I'd like to adopt.  I hadn't thought about adoption too much previous to taking this class...but I think I would really enjoy raising a child from another culture and learning about that culture to make it part of my life too.  Generally, I would like to find a partner who is willing to commit1, is not scared of me and is basically like, "You do your thing, I'll do my thing, but we are in this crazy life together.  I'll back you up."  Is that so much to ask?  Haha maybe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also saw my friends Chris and Jas last night.  They have one and a half year old, named Desmond.  He's my pseudo-nephew.  I love him.  I have known him since before he was born :)  He has been afraid of my laugh since he was born too and it always takes him a while to remember, "Oh yea, this is Katie.  I'm ok with her and now I'm going to go get her all of the books off of my shelf and put them in her lap."  I miss seeing them a lot...I need to just be less busy so I can see all my friends more often.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runr1tll2JI/AAAAAAAAANc/bw-UQ072N88/s1600-h/DSCN0429.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runr1tll2JI/AAAAAAAAANc/bw-UQ072N88/s320/DSCN0429.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109874560231397522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and Des&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Trip to Holland&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;By Emily Perl Kingsley&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel.  It’s like this…&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip to Italy.  You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans…the Coliseum, the Sistine Chapel, Gondolas.  You may learn some handy phrases in Italian.  It’s all very exciting.  After several months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives.  You pack your bags and off you go.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Several hours later, the plane lands.  The stewardess comes in and says, “Welcome to Holland!”  “Holland?”  you say.  “What do you mean, Holland?  I signed up for Italy.  I’m supposed to be in Italy.  All my life I’ve dreamed of going to Italy.”  But there’s been a change in the flight plan.  They’ve landed in Holland and there you must stay.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place full of pestilence, famine, and disease.   It’s just a different place.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;So, you must go out and buy new guidebooks.  And you must learn a whole new language.  And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.  It’s just a different place.  It’s slower paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;But after you’ve been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.  You begin to notice that Holland has windmills.  Holland has tulips.  And Holland even has Rembrandts.  But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy, and they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there.  And for the rest of your life you will say, “Yes, that’s where I was supposed to go.  That’s what I had planned.”  And the pain of that experience will never, ever, ever, go away.  The loss of that dream is a very significant loss.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-300229515593318630?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/300229515593318630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=300229515593318630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/300229515593318630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/300229515593318630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/09/penguins-update-kitchen-and-some-other.html' title='A Penguins Update, The Kitchen and some other things I&apos;ve realized...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Runr1dll2II/AAAAAAAAANU/t1JM060AWVQ/s72-c/DSCN0432.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-5416911685929531516</id><published>2007-09-11T18:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T18:50:35.755-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Never Forget</title><content type='html'>Before I even woke up this morning I already had 3 texts from my friends.  I love them.  It's always a hard day and I always have strange flashbacks about the events of that day...and how my school shut down and nobody knew where the hell anyone's parents were who worked in Manhattan.  guhhhhh, awful.  But at least (Thank God) I have great friends and family, so it makes it bearable.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S.T. / M.O. / M.C. 9/11/01 Never Forget&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_____________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In happy news...I got a fridge that works, fits, and costs more money...HOORAY!!!!  No, it's pretty sweet, the water/ice maker are all hooked up, it's fanfuckingtastic.  The stove now works...and its AWESOMESAUCE! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some other issues - they cannot install the dishwasher until the countertop goes in, the microwave is now attached to the wall, but the idiot electrician put the wiring up there, but no plug.  So now I have to call him back and have him come put that on for some strange reason.  I still have no sink and no counter...but that will be in the next couple weeks :)  Now that the stove works and I can get water from my fridge...I can actually cook something.  Tonight probably won't be the christening night though, the kitchen is too messy still from the installation and I don't feel like cleaning it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of installation --- why do all male delivery men that come to my house want to be my best friend?  You can't be nice to people anymore...it started to get creepy...re: this interchange:&lt;br /&gt;Delivery Guy [about 6'4", black guy, ~30 years old]: (in a baby voice) Ma'am do you have a bandaid, I got a boo-boo while installing the microwave.&lt;br /&gt;Me: (confused voice) Uhh, let me check, I might not have any left.&lt;br /&gt;DG: Also, will you put it on for me? (holds out finger)&lt;br /&gt;Me: (petrified smile) Uhhhh hold on...(finds bandaid) All I have is bright yellow curious George eating a banana.&lt;br /&gt;DG: Thanks! (holds out finger)&lt;br /&gt;Me: uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;creepy right?  Then they called me back twice after they left my house and left NO MESSAGES!  wtf...I was scared, I might have to sleep with one eye open tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gollllly&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-5416911685929531516?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/5416911685929531516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=5416911685929531516' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5416911685929531516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5416911685929531516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/09/never-forget.html' title='Never Forget'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-4485417195174339401</id><published>2007-09-10T23:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-10T23:50:31.895-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RuYNY4EPqGI/AAAAAAAAALc/oNdK586MnR8/s1600-h/Crazy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RuYNY4EPqGI/AAAAAAAAALc/oNdK586MnR8/s400/Crazy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108785548316616802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...was one of these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In some exciting news...tomorrow all my appliances will be hooked up and working and fully installed.  If it all goes smoothy (which I doubt it will) it will be an exceptionally monumentous occassion.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't really get much work done on my teacher workday today...there was a lot of other BS to take care of in my life.  Whoops.  But at least that BS is out of the way now.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to remember I'm in school and that I have reading to do.  I keep forgetting that I actually have to do homework... and then class sneaks up on me and I'm in a rush to do it.  School is great, boring at times, but I think maybe that's the nature of the beast.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cory posted a bunch of Italy pics today...solidifying the fact that I am moving there when I get my teaching license.  I looked it up and I will get paid beaucoup d'argent more with that license than I would if i go now.  So I will stick to my original plan to see where my life is at in 2-3 years and evaluate.  If I am not making a ton of money, madly in love or having to stay here for a family issue...I'm moving to Italy.  Probably to Rome, but I'm considering applying to the Medical School in Bologna or studying early childhood education in Reggio Emilia.  First I need to do my American homework though :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I got rejected 3 times when asking friends to go to the DMB concert w me next week.  CMON PEOPLE!  I'm FUN!  But actually I asked two boys and then Ryan...the hilarious part is that Ry told me she could go and then realized she couldn't.  it's almost hilarious at this point.  If you are reading this and you want to go, that would be great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-4485417195174339401?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/4485417195174339401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=4485417195174339401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/4485417195174339401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/4485417195174339401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/09/today.html' title='Today'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RuYNY4EPqGI/AAAAAAAAALc/oNdK586MnR8/s72-c/Crazy.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-7340724646039288561</id><published>2007-09-08T23:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T23:56:35.281-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What da fuck you say?</title><content type='html'>1. My last post was not about one person.  Many of my posts are passively agressively aimed toward someone, but this one was not.  Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. There was a lot of PDA at Southpoint tonight.  EW.  Ok, I'm all about some occassional, light hand-holding or maybe a small whisper in the ear when no one is looking.  But I am NOT about the makin out, kissing, arms intertwined, hand around the hips grossness that I witnessed tonight.  This is NOT a joke...I saw a guy LICK his girlfriends face while we were in Champps watching the carolina game.  I mean he licked it with his big ole tongue from chin to forehead.  what the hell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I unpacked my kitchen today.  It made me exhausted but...HOLLLLLLLAAAAA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I love the phrase dum-dum.  I think I'm bringing that back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Next weekend is full of parties for bachelorettes and ninjas...I'm STOKED!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-7340724646039288561?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/7340724646039288561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=7340724646039288561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7340724646039288561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7340724646039288561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/09/who-fuck-is-that.html' title='What da fuck you say?'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-4596648677072727269</id><published>2007-09-07T18:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T18:12:59.172-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More Ranting...</title><content type='html'>so why doesn't anyone work on their personal growth?  people are just content to let their issues follow them around.  why don't we just work on them and make more complete humans with full lives?  ugh.  it's so frustrating.  nobody wants to commit to anyone else.  nobody wants to sacrifice a little in order to gain a lot. and nobody seems to really give a shit about anyone besides themselves.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oooh, that seems harsh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-4596648677072727269?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/4596648677072727269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=4596648677072727269' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/4596648677072727269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/4596648677072727269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/09/more-ranting.html' title='More Ranting...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-5058153756288882411</id><published>2007-09-06T22:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T23:42:22.210-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh the Places You'll Go</title><content type='html'>i have been thinking a bunch this week about happiness.  it's a topic that i think about all the time, but most of the time i personally feel very unhappy and discontent.  my friend sandy lent me her copy of The Art of Happiness, and that gave me perspective for a little while, but then i sort of forget everything that made a light bulb go off in my head, and i fall into the same old routines.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's strange because i always feel like i'm at an "inbetween point" in my life.  like im never moving forward.  i like being in school this semester, but i hope i don't get burnt out.  i do finally feel like once i finish this program, i will at least have something concrete.  with this teaching license, i can pretty much teach anywhere i want from Birth-3rd grade, even though it's a birth-kindergarten license.  that is much more gratifying than my dumb biology major.  even my exss minor has gotten me further than all my bio work!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have been thinking more strongly about moving abroad after i get my teaching license.  if i move to italy, i would be set since that is where most of the great educators formed their philosophies.  and plus, italians love children, and they value them and believe them to be important.  i still haven't been to israel, egypt and greece.  those are three countries on my list that have not yet been visited.  though my parents would never let me to go israel or egypt even though i'm dyiiiiing to see both.  sometimes i think i should just be an archeologist, since i find ancient egypt so interesting.  then i'm like forget this - i should just move to japan and live in a house with a sensai on a mountain and study ninjutsu for the rest of my life and completely take on that lifestyle, not having to worry about anything else.  but then i remember that i really want a healthy family, with a full life of friendships and a career that i love.  damn me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm clearly also at an inbetween point with relationships, both friendships and romantically.  i feel like having made ALL brand new friends this year has been extremely difficult.  most people i know now, don't even know the old katie.  who the hell was i before?  the only people who really, truly know me and love me are my friends from rvc, plus lauren.  it's funny because i really like all the new friends i've made, it's just that they haven't known me that long.  it's weird that they just don't know what my life was like before, since i am compllllllllllletely different.  i know people change, of course, during the span of their lives, but i have been forced to change in this one year so substantially.  this is cliche, but it's almost like i am getting to know a new me.  haha.  that sounds ridiculous, but it's true.  and as for relationships, well, im not really out there to date so much.  if i met a guy randomly that i really liked, id prolly date him, but chances are slim, i'm pretty picky.  i do really like cory, but that is a whole separate situation that is not moving forward anytime in the near future.  which is a good thing...i just feel so unhappy about it all.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i think about how i have made all new friends, instead of seeing the joys of these newly found friendships, all i can think about are the circumstances behind these friendships that forced me to seek them out!  which, by the way, really sucks.  plus, i'm scared.  all the time.  there is no way that anything like what happened last year can ever happen to me again, because i just can't handle it.  i mean, nobody could.  seriously.  when i hang out with wesley and lyndsi, it is so crystal clear that they love each other, truly.  i know only a few other young couples like that, that actually commit to each other like that.  that's what i want.  i mean, it is kind of a tall order because that takes so long to cultivate and work on, that my impatience prolly won't allow me to accept that i need to wait for someone who is actually worth it.  that's the thing - what the hell does that even mean anymore?!  i guess i'm ranting based on my own personal experience, which is nowhere remotely close to the normal 23-year-olds....but still.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i also realize that i am an extremely intense person.  but it is who i am, i can't help it so much.  sometimes i try to hold back, but eventually the truth leaks out.  it's true...i freak people out.  this has been making me a little upset.  it is so difficult to find people who can keep up with me.  i can run on E for longer than most people.  i feel like i constantly push myself to the limit because i get so bored when i'm not doing anything.  i know that i am passionate and driven and this year has not been the most shining example of that, but it's still underneath.  i don't know how to make it so that people are not scared and intimidated by me.  i have been struggling with this since the 6th grade.  other friends parents would even tell me later in high school that when their kid became friends with me, they were scared themselves because i seemed so intimidating!  wtf...i was in the 6th grade.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;part of it is that NY is an intense place, and you have keep up your shell because that's the nature of the beast in that environment.  i think maybe i have been more sensitive lately because i know 9/11 is fast approaching.  ugh.  i hate it.  i hate that every year i am in a trance all during the day.  i have the same pictures and sequence of events running through my head over and over.  i try to talk or text all of my friends from NY, if i don't receive a message from them first...though we're pretty good about it.  but i think that it's just making me sad, adding to the unhappiness.  i hate thinking about all 40 funerals at St. Agnes and i hate remembering what it was like to have running lists of missing people in our heads for weeks.  i hate thinking about how much my dad cried during the following weeks.  and worst of all, i hate thinking that some terrorist is going to nuke the shit out of NY and i will lose my whole family and my whole life.  the whole thing is always in the back of my mind reminding me about the value of life, of living life.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i guess my point is that maybe i need to have more faith in people.  maybe i need to believe people when they say they like me, they want to be my friend and they say i'm an interesting person.  maybe i need to NOT believe some people when they devalue me because it makes them feel more powerful.  maybe i need to go with the flow a little bit more.  maybe i need to not worry so much about what's going to happen with my life.  maybe i need to think like a guy for a little bit and just chill out in the moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-5058153756288882411?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/5058153756288882411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=5058153756288882411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5058153756288882411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5058153756288882411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/09/oh-places-youll-go.html' title='Oh the Places You&apos;ll Go'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-5902064260875448083</id><published>2007-09-04T19:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T19:43:16.539-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ok I'm RELOADED</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rt3ti4EPqFI/AAAAAAAAALU/LuLyojc0_ys/s1600-h/lotus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rt3ti4EPqFI/AAAAAAAAALU/LuLyojc0_ys/s400/lotus.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106498735929534546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I also decided I'm getting another tatoo this month.  Where?  I dunno.  The choices are my shoulder, inside of my wrist or the top of my foot.  Pain is not a factor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-5902064260875448083?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/5902064260875448083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=5902064260875448083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5902064260875448083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5902064260875448083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/09/ok-im-reloaded.html' title='Ok I&apos;m RELOADED'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rt3ti4EPqFI/AAAAAAAAALU/LuLyojc0_ys/s72-c/lotus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-7328872136214447338</id><published>2007-09-04T19:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T19:35:55.295-04:00</updated><title type='text'>File that under "Complaints" and some good things</title><content type='html'>Complaint 1:&lt;br /&gt;My vacation cannot arrive fast enough.  I love the kiddos, but honestly, teaching 12 months of the year is completely exhausting.  This month will be my one year anniversary at FPG!  Feels like the longest year of my life (um, I mean, it has been).  It's the best job I've ever had and has given me so much insight into myself and the way I think about life, it's all been totally invaluable.  But still, I cannot wait to go to NY and London.  Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Complaint 2:&lt;br /&gt;My kitchen remodel is a disaster.  My whole house is tilted, so since the cabinets were put in correctly, it shows the prominent tilt of the house with the space that it's left between the cabinets and the ceiling.  My fridge doesn't fit so it has to be returned and I had to buy a more expensive one that actually fits.  I thought I was done spending money on this place...grrr, guess not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Complaint 3:&lt;br /&gt;School sometimes is boooooring.  So this is a small complaint, because for the most part I am LOVING the fact that I'm back in school.  I was dreading it for a while, but turns out, its great.  I love being on campus and I even feel less disconnected to the Carolina community now than I did my senior year, so I'm happy to have that experience.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Complaint 4:&lt;br /&gt;Cleaning my other condo was far too painful.  So I have to pay someone to do it.  I'd rather do that though than cry through the entire process of reliving my past life.  just whatever, boo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Complaint 5:&lt;br /&gt;My dog is a psycho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am dyiiiiing to see my friends in NY.  It has been such a heavy weight on my mind lately and I have been missing everyone so intensly.  I think maybe because Nina's and Coal's engagement parties were last month and I just feel like I've missed out on some important parts of my friends lives.  I hate that feeling.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there are some good things...&lt;br /&gt;The kitchen is really almost done, so that's good.  The DMB concert is in two weeks and that always cheers me up immensly.  I have been doing a lot of writing on my own, and it's been really great.  I feel like I'm making progress on my personal growth.  I've also been doing a little bit of standup writing.  I'm not very good at it, but at least its a nice form to write some of the dumb jokes I tell myself in my head.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the girls at the Rock...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember thinking&lt;br /&gt;Ill go on forever only knowing&lt;br /&gt;Ill see you again&lt;br /&gt;But I know&lt;br /&gt;The touch of you is so hard to remember&lt;br /&gt;But like that touch I know no other&lt;br /&gt;And for sure we have danced&lt;br /&gt;In the risk of each other&lt;br /&gt;Would like to dance&lt;br /&gt;Around the world with me&lt;br /&gt;Ill be falling all about my own thing&lt;br /&gt;And I know your the heaviest weight&lt;br /&gt;When your not here thats hung&lt;br /&gt;Around my head&lt;br /&gt;And your lips burn wild&lt;br /&gt;Thrown from the face of a child&lt;br /&gt;And in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;The seeing of the greatest few&lt;br /&gt;Do what you will, always&lt;br /&gt;Walk where you like, your steps&lt;br /&gt;Do as you please, Ill back you up&lt;br /&gt;I remember thinking&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we walk&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we run away&lt;br /&gt;But I know&lt;br /&gt;No matter how fast we are running&lt;br /&gt;Somehow we keep&lt;br /&gt;Somehow we keep up with each other&lt;br /&gt;Ill be falling all about my own thing&lt;br /&gt;And I know your the heaviest weight&lt;br /&gt;Hen your not here thats hung&lt;br /&gt;Around my head&lt;br /&gt;And your lips burn wild&lt;br /&gt;Thrown from the face of a child&lt;br /&gt;And in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;The seeing of the greatest few&lt;br /&gt;Do what you will, always&lt;br /&gt;Walk where you like, your steps&lt;br /&gt;Do as you please, Ill back you up&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-7328872136214447338?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/7328872136214447338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=7328872136214447338' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7328872136214447338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7328872136214447338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/09/file-that-under-complaints-and-some.html' title='File that under &quot;Complaints&quot; and some good things'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-4679119975441537277</id><published>2007-08-30T21:21:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T21:24:16.259-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ohhhhh man</title><content type='html'>Cory is going to London tomorrow.  He's pretty much going to have the best time ever.  I will miss him, but not really in the sad sort of way because I know he's going to be having so much fun.  It makes me want to live abroad.  Ugh.  Why did I start going to school when I should have just peaced out and moved to Italy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The party I had for Cory at my house was fun, I love my friends and I love that they happen to be the people I work with also.  It is extremely fortunate.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so maybe I am a litttttle sad...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-4679119975441537277?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/4679119975441537277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=4679119975441537277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/4679119975441537277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/4679119975441537277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/08/ohhhhh-man.html' title='Ohhhhh man'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-5745866275248828793</id><published>2007-08-22T12:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T12:50:29.723-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's really starting...</title><content type='html'>So this fall is going to be super exciting!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Day of the new school year: August 20th&lt;br /&gt;First Day of my classes: August 22nd&lt;br /&gt;DMB concert: September 18th&lt;br /&gt;Lori Jo &amp; Nathan's Wedding: September 29th in Virginia&lt;br /&gt;NY &amp; Fall Break Vacation: October 12th-21st&lt;br /&gt;Jen &amp; David's Wedding: November 10th in Charlotte&lt;br /&gt;My family comes for Thanksgiving: November 22nd/23rd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holy moly!  I am a busy girl, I better start saving my pennies:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-5745866275248828793?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/5745866275248828793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=5745866275248828793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5745866275248828793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5745866275248828793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/08/its-really-starting.html' title='It&apos;s really starting...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-4635441213894337436</id><published>2007-08-20T23:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T23:44:17.128-04:00</updated><title type='text'>sometimes</title><content type='html'>sometimes i get so frustrated by people that i feel like the best way to relieve the built up stress is to throw a glass against a mirror like my girl Jennifer Connelly did in &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;A Beautiful Mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;seriously.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-4635441213894337436?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/4635441213894337436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=4635441213894337436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/4635441213894337436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/4635441213894337436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/08/sometimes.html' title='sometimes'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-6829288770048715548</id><published>2007-08-08T23:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T23:22:49.470-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I &lt;3 NY PZ</title><content type='html'>I had to go to Best Buy to get a new linksys box today, and so I ate dinner at the I&lt;3NYPZ&lt;br /&gt;that's in New Hope shopping center. I got a cheese slice and 3 garlic&lt;br /&gt;knots with sauce. I sat down to watch some CNN about the miner's who&lt;br /&gt;have become buried and waited for my pizza. The twenty-something girl&lt;br /&gt;sitting next to me looked to be some sort of Asian mix...I'm guessing&lt;br /&gt;half white/halfchinese by the shape of her eyes.  She was very attractive and had a pretty great body and a cute tatoo&lt;br /&gt;on the inside of her wrist. I got my pizza and my knots and they were&lt;br /&gt;too hot to eat, so I resorted to a knife and fork. The cute girl leaned&lt;br /&gt;over and said, "What are those things?Breadsticks or something?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMG.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_____________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes (and only sometimes) I get so freakin sad that I don't live in NY anymore.  Simple things like getting a canoli on the way home from work or school, or pizza that is fresh pretty much all the time make me cry a little inside.  I do love it here.  And I do not blame the cutie for asking me "what's a garlic knot."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But really?  Sometimes I wished that people peed on the sidewalks in downtown Chapel Hill so that the heat would make the urine extra rancid and I would get to walk past it with a warm smile in my heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-6829288770048715548?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/6829288770048715548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=6829288770048715548' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/6829288770048715548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/6829288770048715548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-3-ny-pz.html' title='I &lt;3 NY PZ'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-4930165900389709650</id><published>2007-07-24T00:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T00:47:56.301-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Annnd I can't open my hand all the way and or straighten my legs all the way or lift my right arm up all the way...</title><content type='html'>I bought a new house today.  The inside used to look like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RqWCJBqEMgI/AAAAAAAAALE/n6NI06RuRVk/s1600-h/010205010405010304200706106789695f8642aa1ae90002b9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RqWCJBqEMgI/AAAAAAAAALE/n6NI06RuRVk/s400/010205010405010304200706106789695f8642aa1ae90002b9.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090618045387518466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't look like that anymore.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom and I painted ALL weekend.  I can't move my body anymore...blech.  Though, now my new house looks beautiful, so whoooo!  Nanette and Ryan provided their painting services while I provided them with complaints and gossip.  That was fun.  Some friends will help demolish my existing kitchen on Wednesday.  It currently looks like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RqWDbRqEMhI/AAAAAAAAALM/JH0CWElpBRc/s1600-h/01020101030301040820070610945fb0b71db5c8932b00f54d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RqWDbRqEMhI/AAAAAAAAALM/JH0CWElpBRc/s400/01020101030301040820070610945fb0b71db5c8932b00f54d.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090619458431758866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It will not look like that after Wednesday.  Thankfully.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully I'll be moved in by this weekend...we'll see.  Considering I haven't packed much, that might be difficult.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I saw Chuck&amp;Larry.  I liked it.  There was a bunch of nice statements for the gay community, which is great.  And it had Rachel Dratch, Dave Matthews and Dan Akroyd in it.  And of course Steve Buschemi and Rob Schneider.  I obviously am giving it a 10 for all of those reasons.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week will also be the turn-around week from my miserable past two.  That's my prediction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-4930165900389709650?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/4930165900389709650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=4930165900389709650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/4930165900389709650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/4930165900389709650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/07/annnd-i-cant-open-my-hand-all-way-and.html' title='Annnd I can&apos;t open my hand all the way and or straighten my legs all the way or lift my right arm up all the way...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RqWCJBqEMgI/AAAAAAAAALE/n6NI06RuRVk/s72-c/010205010405010304200706106789695f8642aa1ae90002b9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-5549900515239162575</id><published>2007-07-05T20:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-05T21:00:11.372-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cookie Jar</title><content type='html'>My blog was on hiatus.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What have I been up to, you may ask?  Well, lots.  I started working in a new classroom, which is great.  I started kickboxing more often.  I started getting up earlier.  I lost weight.  I started juggling my soccer ball again.  I bought a new house...by myself, without a real estate agent.  I finally saw The Biltmore (who has a nine foot swimming pool in their basement, honestly?).  I've had a lot of fun.  Plus some other things I can't think of...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've regained some awesomeness.  HOLLLLLLAAAAA!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-5549900515239162575?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/5549900515239162575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=5549900515239162575' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5549900515239162575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5549900515239162575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/07/cookie-jar.html' title='Cookie Jar'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-7297277220934527332</id><published>2007-05-18T18:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-18T18:09:37.695-04:00</updated><title type='text'>whew</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rk4kDS5F3SI/AAAAAAAAAK8/lMLKTCZKKxc/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rk4kDS5F3SI/AAAAAAAAAK8/lMLKTCZKKxc/s400/images.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066026269867892002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what an exhausting week.  great but tiring.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-7297277220934527332?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/7297277220934527332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=7297277220934527332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7297277220934527332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7297277220934527332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/05/whew.html' title='whew'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rk4kDS5F3SI/AAAAAAAAAK8/lMLKTCZKKxc/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-5182914076712090159</id><published>2007-05-14T20:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T21:21:19.443-04:00</updated><title type='text'>fantastico</title><content type='html'>i decided that brixx needs to be bigger.  there is nowhere to wait for a table, the bar is too crowded, and there is very little seating.  also, i got into the bk program, which is awesome.  i got offered a position to work on an inclusion project with a brand new grant at greensboro, which is awesome.  i got accepted to the wage$ program, which is awesome.  i quit myspace, thank god.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-5182914076712090159?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/5182914076712090159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=5182914076712090159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5182914076712090159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5182914076712090159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/05/fantastico.html' title='fantastico'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-451206701495941938</id><published>2007-05-10T23:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T23:15:55.929-04:00</updated><title type='text'>i almost died today.</title><content type='html'>riley and i went for our usual walk around Anderson Park Lake...but this time, we were actually CHASED by a mommy goose.  she was with about 5 little baby geese (goslings?) and she did not like riley even walking near them.  she followed us at last 20 feet down the path and was opening her mouth making a heinous goose sound.  i was scared.  for realz.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RkPfvtwz_EI/AAAAAAAAAK0/xa-J77L8IJ0/s1600-h/Riley002-6-2-06-w.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RkPfvtwz_EI/AAAAAAAAAK0/xa-J77L8IJ0/s400/Riley002-6-2-06-w.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063136416925744194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Baby Dog Hunts Baby Geese"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-451206701495941938?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/451206701495941938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=451206701495941938' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/451206701495941938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/451206701495941938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-almost-died-today.html' title='i almost died today.'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RkPfvtwz_EI/AAAAAAAAAK0/xa-J77L8IJ0/s72-c/Riley002-6-2-06-w.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-6223476709384433293</id><published>2007-05-05T18:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-05T18:20:28.414-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My name is kate, and I am a children's book addict.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rj0DItwz_CI/AAAAAAAAAKk/YyOH6P3EY6Y/s1600-h/51TG076NEML._AA240_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rj0DItwz_CI/AAAAAAAAAKk/YyOH6P3EY6Y/s400/51TG076NEML._AA240_.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061205004492471330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been working on my new manuscript for submission and in the process have become addicted to buying children's books.  My earlier post on &lt;i&gt;Zen Shorts&lt;/i&gt; shows my current favorite...and most recent buy.  When I used to log into amazon, it would present me with my usual top picks on improv, training and teaching strategies, and therapy through play...now I get things like &lt;i&gt;The Incredible Book-Eating Boy&lt;/i&gt;.  I will say that this is not an inexpensive addiction, and if I really want that DY ring, I should stop spending my extra cash on Eric Carle and save my pennies for my more materialistic passions.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's fascinating because children's books are written by adults...and similar to some improv theories, these books provide really meaty underlying subtext within the story which is meant for children to pick up.  But is it really?  I mean, children don't actually &lt;i&gt;read&lt;/i&gt; children's books...adults do.  Children look at the pictures and listen to the story, but are they processing all the advice, hidden meanings, and morals presented to them?  Us adults like to think they are getting it...really grasping concepts like racism, disability, economic struggle in their new and innocent brains.  At school, after reading a story, lets say about racism, I often present concepts like this, "Friends, Jimmy didn't want Jake to play at his house just because he was a different color, isn't that so sad?"  And usually the response is twelve (well, 10 responsive) little heads nodding "yes, that's terrible" in a sheer disappointed fashion.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Children are smart.  I think we are just not sure how smart sometimes.  Adults underestimate and overestimate children's abilities all the time...so we have to make up for it through consistency.  Which means we have to keep writing this books so that they teach a hefty lesson, and if some kids get it - great!  - if not - Oh well, we tried...right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-6223476709384433293?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/6223476709384433293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=6223476709384433293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/6223476709384433293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/6223476709384433293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-name-is-kate-and-i-am-childrens-book.html' title='My name is kate, and I am a children&apos;s book addict.'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rj0DItwz_CI/AAAAAAAAAKk/YyOH6P3EY6Y/s72-c/51TG076NEML._AA240_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-8414718828830934515</id><published>2007-05-04T17:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T17:17:11.239-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Matching!</title><content type='html'>So finally i have recovered.  my stomach is still a little shaky...but eh.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other media:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RjuiF9wz_AI/AAAAAAAAAKU/tHM9clbE_9k/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RjuiF9wz_AI/AAAAAAAAAKU/tHM9clbE_9k/s400/images.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060816829643226114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me and beef will be matching soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and a reminder - i still want this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RjuivNwz_BI/AAAAAAAAAKc/1g1bXMqKcEY/s1600-h/DYY6981_mn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RjuivNwz_BI/AAAAAAAAAKc/1g1bXMqKcEY/s400/DYY6981_mn.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060817538312829970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-8414718828830934515?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/8414718828830934515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=8414718828830934515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/8414718828830934515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/8414718828830934515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/05/matching.html' title='Matching!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RjuiF9wz_AI/AAAAAAAAAKU/tHM9clbE_9k/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-5735605439907948988</id><published>2007-05-02T18:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T18:18:35.762-04:00</updated><title type='text'>les miserables</title><content type='html'>so i hate it when my kids don't stay home when they're sick...because i inevitably end up getting sick.  such is the case right now.  2 days of massive stomach problems...the works.  ewww.  in the process i pulled my shoulder, pinched nerve city, excruciating pain at 3:30am...winding up in the chiropractors office getting ultrasound.  great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;missing ryan's birthday dinner and my belt graduation.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-5735605439907948988?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/5735605439907948988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=5735605439907948988' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5735605439907948988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5735605439907948988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/05/les-miserables.html' title='les miserables'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-2451070937238432770</id><published>2007-04-29T20:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-29T20:08:32.510-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday</title><content type='html'>I freakin love Wai-Wai.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also love Extreme Makeover Home Edition.  I am addicted.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just finished my second children's book.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lady at the dog park was talking to her husband when I walked in with Riley.  She said, "This dog is always a riot."  Awwww, she's our little riot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait for belt graduation on Wednesday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-2451070937238432770?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/2451070937238432770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=2451070937238432770' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2451070937238432770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2451070937238432770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/04/sunday.html' title='Sunday'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-7356831778079243078</id><published>2007-04-24T12:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T12:19:23.801-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Zen Shorts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Ri4uBAopSuI/AAAAAAAAAKM/BCAvNhefi7E/s1600-h/zen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Ri4uBAopSuI/AAAAAAAAAKM/BCAvNhefi7E/s400/zen.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057030026468870882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;A Heavy Load&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two traveling monks reached a town where there was a young woman waiting to step out of her sedan chair.  The rains had made deep puddles and she couldn't step across without spoiling her silken robes.  She stood there, looking very cross and impatient.  She was scolding her attendants.  They had nowhere to place the packages they held for her, so they couldn't help her across the puddle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The younger monk noticed the woman, said nothing, and walked by.  The older monk quickly picked her up and put her on his back, transported her across the water and put her down on the other side.  She didn't thank the older monk, she just shoved him out of the way and departed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As they continued on their way, the young monk was brooding and preoccupied.  After several hours, unable to hold his silence, he spoke out.  "That woman back there was very selfish and rude, but you picked her up on your back and carried her!  Then she didn't even thank you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I set the woman down hours ago," the older monk replied.  "Why are &lt;i&gt;you&lt;/i&gt; still carrying her?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Jon J. Muth&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-7356831778079243078?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/7356831778079243078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=7356831778079243078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7356831778079243078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7356831778079243078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/04/zen-shorts.html' title='&lt;i&gt;Zen Shorts&lt;/i&gt;'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Ri4uBAopSuI/AAAAAAAAAKM/BCAvNhefi7E/s72-c/zen.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-9191247469709459720</id><published>2007-04-20T20:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T20:18:04.842-04:00</updated><title type='text'>an open letter:</title><content type='html'>ok, ok - kell, i'll admit, you &lt;i&gt;are&lt;/i&gt; unusual. and great.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sue - you're still not. (just kidding) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i'll still visit your stupid manhattan apartment with your stupid terrace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guess i am just jealous that you guys will get to saki bomb without me all the time and i'll just be "in the south."  ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news:  &lt;br /&gt;- it's zach's birthday weekend.  there are lots of surprises in store.  i've been tricking him for months.  it's awesome.  &lt;br /&gt;- i am guaranteed the next permanent position at work with a pay raise and paid vacation due to my STELLAR interview yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;- i got a new hair color today.  not sure about it.&lt;br /&gt;- i actually went to bed early yesterday and didn't have to take a nap today.&lt;br /&gt;- beth - if you read this - stop playing phone tag already!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-9191247469709459720?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/9191247469709459720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=9191247469709459720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/9191247469709459720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/9191247469709459720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/04/open-letter.html' title='an open letter:'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-3278605976029522739</id><published>2007-04-18T22:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-18T22:21:20.887-04:00</updated><title type='text'>i wasn't kidding...</title><content type='html'>no, seriously.  in reference to my earlier post - it's not unusual to live in ny.  it's not cool.  it's not trendy.  it's normal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-3278605976029522739?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/3278605976029522739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=3278605976029522739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/3278605976029522739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/3278605976029522739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-wasnt-kidding.html' title='i wasn&apos;t kidding...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-1002286952293325299</id><published>2007-04-16T23:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T23:34:41.249-04:00</updated><title type='text'>no, you don't understand is always the response to you don't understand</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RiRADA1ioAI/AAAAAAAAAKE/cygJU6pt5oI/s1600-h/5th.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RiRADA1ioAI/AAAAAAAAAKE/cygJU6pt5oI/s400/5th.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054235102324891650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-1002286952293325299?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/1002286952293325299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=1002286952293325299' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/1002286952293325299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/1002286952293325299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/04/no-you-dont-understand-is-always.html' title='no, you don&apos;t understand is always the response to you don&apos;t understand'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RiRADA1ioAI/AAAAAAAAAKE/cygJU6pt5oI/s72-c/5th.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-2344432943600424163</id><published>2007-04-16T23:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T23:15:37.823-04:00</updated><title type='text'>thinking...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RiQ7mg1in_I/AAAAAAAAAJ8/-JpsNe18rrc/s1600-h/lotus_thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RiQ7mg1in_I/AAAAAAAAAJ8/-JpsNe18rrc/s400/lotus_thumb.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054230214652108786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;dirty, shit water seedling shoots into beautiful flower&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-2344432943600424163?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/2344432943600424163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=2344432943600424163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2344432943600424163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2344432943600424163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/04/thinking.html' title='thinking...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RiQ7mg1in_I/AAAAAAAAAJ8/-JpsNe18rrc/s72-c/lotus_thumb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-2763887330091041281</id><published>2007-04-14T21:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T21:32:50.605-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bathroom Talk</title><content type='html'>On my recent trip home, I saw an old friend in the bathroom at a bar.  Not unusual.  Deanna and I were pretty good acquaintances and shared a lot of the same friends in high school.  She went to college with one of the girls I played soccer with for several years, and maintained her group of high school buddies, same as I have.  Anyway, they have all reunited to live together in Manhattan, as most of the people in my town do.  Not unusual.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend Jay has been working at Bear Sterns since he was 16.  His dad got him the internship and he was bright enough not to fuck it up, now he has moved up the ranks and has a salary that I can only dream about.  He meets up with our other corporate money-hungry friends for happy hour on Fridays.  Not unusual.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the thing about Manhattan that many young people who are not from there do not understand...it's not unusual.  New Yorkers can be mean and unfriendly, the city smells like urine and hot, musty urine in the summer, people decide to move in together because rent is too expensive, everyone looks stylish whether they're wearing flats or heels, sometimes people get shot and sometimes their i-Pods get stolen and sometimes they talk about making laws that you can't wear your i-Pod while crossing a Manhattan street, you will see Matt Lauer or Al Roker or hopefully, Sam Champion on the subway, you will watch Channel 7 Eyewitness News and see bodega shootings and high school soccer or lacrosse scandals all in the same segment, you will never, ever be able to see the Met in one day - ever, homeless people die on the street all the time, it's expensive - stop complaining - it always will be, and definitely not last, it's the greatest city in the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what inspired that rant?  I was always a New York Girl, someone my family thought would never leave.  I always wanted to live in Bay Ridge because that's where my dad is from.  I was always on a successful track where i would have a job that would provide me with a huge salary and opportunity to own a brownstone.  But now I'm not.  When I went home, I felt very tired of all the talk - who lives where, who's apartment has a fireplace, who can walk to work, who get's a car to work, who takes the subway, who's company pays for what, who get's free lunch, blah blah blah.  I have corporate friends, writer friends, sales friends, artsy friends, teacher friends, lawyer friends and doctor friends and they all live in Manhattan...and guess what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not unusual.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-2763887330091041281?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/2763887330091041281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=2763887330091041281' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2763887330091041281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2763887330091041281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/04/bathroom-talk.html' title='Bathroom Talk'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-5708743302049954146</id><published>2007-04-09T12:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T12:23:22.477-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding Forecast</title><content type='html'>SURPRISE! - Nin and Vin got engaged this weekend!  He took her to the boardwalk for breakfast and proposed on the beach.  Her ring is gorgeous, of course, Vin wouldn't have it any other way.  Easter weekend was ful of celebratory events :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend: Nanette's Wedding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year: My cousin, Lindsay's Wedding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next year: Nin and Vin's Wedding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOOOOOOTTTTTTTTTTTTT!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-5708743302049954146?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/5708743302049954146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=5708743302049954146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5708743302049954146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5708743302049954146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/04/wedding-forecast.html' title='Wedding Forecast'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-1491960499845184360</id><published>2007-04-04T11:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T11:53:33.489-04:00</updated><title type='text'>no really...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RhPJ6sE_UpI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/JpNhMDPlDM4/s1600-h/stop.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RhPJ6sE_UpI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/JpNhMDPlDM4/s400/stop.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049601617314140818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-1491960499845184360?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/1491960499845184360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=1491960499845184360' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/1491960499845184360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/1491960499845184360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/04/no-really.html' title='no really...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RhPJ6sE_UpI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/JpNhMDPlDM4/s72-c/stop.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-6248829932993662836</id><published>2007-03-31T23:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-31T23:54:41.595-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dancing Nancies...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rg8s4a8l6SI/AAAAAAAAAJs/SY17s4iNWTY/s1600-h/StandUp_cover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rg8s4a8l6SI/AAAAAAAAAJs/SY17s4iNWTY/s400/StandUp_cover.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048303055123376418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;meredith is crazy.  i love her, but she's crazy.  she's a hippie, "retired scenester" (as she calls it), vegan, preschool teacher and garderner extraordinaire.  she's also my co-teacher.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in our class, we have 2 hermit crabs, named harry and sally (yes, the kids picked these names, knowing nothing about american pop-culture, cute, i know).  in fact, my favorite joke to play on meredith is to call her and tell her that one of the hermit crabs has died.  she cries, and i have to tell her i'm kidding.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;recently, we acquired 25 tadpoles.  meredith loves them more than the children i think.  so i was not surprised when last night at midnight, she called me from the cats cradle to ask me to drop off my key so she could feed the tadpoles.  it was 12:40am when i got there.  crazy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now in addition to her present hippie situation, meredith is also a roadie for Ted Leo and the Pharmacists.  she's a groupie to many other bands, but she actually tours with these boys.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this fun fact got me thinking...i wish i could really switch places with someone for a week.  would i like it?  if i gave being a vegan a chance from inside meredith's body, would i like it?  i know, there's a movie called freaky friday which explores this concept...but that's hollywood.  i'm talking about real life here.  maybe i should try to be someone else for a week and see what happens.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel like i need a new perspective on life.  maybe it will help me accept people for who they are and stop hating so much.  it's eating me up.  i realize that people don't like me either.  people who were friends aren't anymore.  and it all just sucks.  so maybe being someone else will open my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could I have been&lt;br /&gt;A parking lot attendant&lt;br /&gt;Could I have been&lt;br /&gt;A millionaire in Bel Air&lt;br /&gt;Could I have been Lost somewhere in Paris&lt;br /&gt;Could I have been&lt;br /&gt;Your little brother&lt;br /&gt;Could I have been&lt;br /&gt;Anyone other than me&lt;br /&gt;Could I have been&lt;br /&gt;Anyone other than me&lt;br /&gt;Could I have been&lt;br /&gt;Anyone other than me&lt;br /&gt;Could I have been &lt;br /&gt;Anyone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stands touch his hair his shoes untied&lt;br /&gt;Tongue gaping stare&lt;br /&gt;Could I have been a magnet for money?&lt;br /&gt;Could I have been anyone other than me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twenty three and so tired of life&lt;br /&gt;Such a shame to throw it all away&lt;br /&gt;The images grow darker still&lt;br /&gt;Could I have been anyone other than me? Then I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look up at the sky&lt;br /&gt;My mouth is open wide, lick and taste&lt;br /&gt;What's the use in worrying, what's the use in hurrying&lt;br /&gt;Turn, turn we almost become dizzy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am who I am who I am who am I&lt;br /&gt;Requesting some enlightenment&lt;br /&gt;Could I have been anyone other than me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sing and dance I'll play for you tonight&lt;br /&gt;And thrill at it all&lt;br /&gt;Dark clouds may hang on me sometimes&lt;br /&gt;But I'll work it out then I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look up at the sky&lt;br /&gt;My mouth is open wide, lick and taste&lt;br /&gt;What's the use in worrying, what's the use in hurrying&lt;br /&gt;Turn, turn we almost become dizzy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falling out of a world of lies&lt;br /&gt;Could I have been dancing nancy&lt;br /&gt;Could I have been anyone other than me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-6248829932993662836?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/6248829932993662836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=6248829932993662836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/6248829932993662836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/6248829932993662836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/03/dancing-nancies.html' title='&lt;i&gt;Dancing Nancies...&lt;/i&gt;'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rg8s4a8l6SI/AAAAAAAAAJs/SY17s4iNWTY/s72-c/StandUp_cover.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-5316860552025735745</id><published>2007-03-26T14:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T15:18:03.197-04:00</updated><title type='text'>WHOA MARCH, HELLO APRIL! and medicine</title><content type='html'>yikes!  i have so many things to do in the coming few weeks, it's crazy!  i am going to publicize them right now:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mar 31 &lt;br /&gt;Net's Bridal Shower&lt;br /&gt;Eitan Lee's Bar Mitzvah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apr 2&lt;br /&gt;Yellow Belt Graduation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;April 8&lt;br /&gt;Go to NY for Easter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;April 13&lt;br /&gt;Net's Rehearsal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;April 14&lt;br /&gt;Net's Wedding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;April 22&lt;br /&gt;Z's Bday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so a lot of it is based around Nanette, but i am super excited about the wedding, so it's o.k.  i still have to work out what to do for z's birthday, i need to get my wheels working...with this schedule, it looks like april 22nd might just sneak up on me!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news, my cousin got engaged this weekend, which is great!  she is getting her master's in library science right now, so her fiance proposed at the library of congress in DC...cute, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to comment for a minute about &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;House&lt;/span&gt;.  now, i suppose this goes for all of the medical shows...but how do they continually come up with these weird new illnesses.  i mean, aren't there a semi-finite number of "bizarre" illnesses that a person could get?  for example, i have seen several &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;House&lt;/span&gt; episodes where people hallucinate, due to different illnesses...but they always use similar graphics and depictions to show the hallucination.  i have seen several episodes where people here voices for one reason or another - but yet, the illnesses are only slightly different in the end.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was a biology major, i am well aware of the range of illnesses that a person could endure, however, they are not as exciting as &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;House&lt;/span&gt; makes them seem...guess that's why it is a good TV show, and i guess that's why i got sucked into watching the marathon yesterday on USA.  plus i also have a girl crush on "Cameron" played by Jennifer Morrison.  it's similar to the crush i have on CSI Miami's "Callie" played by Emily Procter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, i believe everything i see on TV, so that means &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;House &lt;/span&gt;is always factually correct, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RggbnoxoT8I/AAAAAAAAAJY/w1FibZ9w5SU/s1600-h/cal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RggbnoxoT8I/AAAAAAAAAJY/w1FibZ9w5SU/s320/cal.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046313750243069890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Callie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RggbnoxoT9I/AAAAAAAAAJg/sPVeJd6SGGc/s1600-h/cam.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RggbnoxoT9I/AAAAAAAAAJg/sPVeJd6SGGc/s320/cam.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046313750243069906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cameron&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-5316860552025735745?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/5316860552025735745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=5316860552025735745' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5316860552025735745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5316860552025735745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/03/whoa-march-hello-april-and-medicine.html' title='WHOA MARCH, HELLO APRIL! and medicine'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RggbnoxoT8I/AAAAAAAAAJY/w1FibZ9w5SU/s72-c/cal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-5610841960848380667</id><published>2007-03-23T13:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-23T14:08:01.015-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blank</title><content type='html'>I need a tape-recorder.  The thoughts that run through my brain are far more articulate than what I eventually end up producing on paper.  In trying to write my novel, I have found that I get "writer's block" when I actually sit down to type.  But I often tell  parts of stories in my mind, as if my life were being narrated to me [think &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Stranger Than Fiction&lt;/span&gt;].  These stories are far more entertaining and well-told than what I end up typing out.  Maybe that means I am not practiced enough, or maybe I am just not a good writer...but either way, I want to share my story the way I see it, with the same details that only I know.  It's frustrating me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After returning from a lovely trip in CA of beaches, whale watching and fantastic fresh fish entrees, I feel like I am ready for Spring to roll on in.  I am just ready, for whatever.  I am so busy all the time, I feel like time passes by without me even tipping my hat as its on its way out.  I have been thinking about new projects I want to work on, new ways to finish the ones I am already working on, and ways to get rid of negative habits I feel so awfully inclined to entertain.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also wish I could make more money.  poop. it's unlikely.  I want to have more cushioning so I can buy things I want, though right now I barely have enough to buy things I need.  I do not realistically have time for another job.  grrr.  oh well, such is life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-5610841960848380667?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/5610841960848380667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=5610841960848380667' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5610841960848380667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5610841960848380667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/03/blank.html' title='Blank'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-6906833357944360089</id><published>2007-03-13T19:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T19:32:57.106-04:00</updated><title type='text'>crazy/normal normal/crazy</title><content type='html'>in high school, my boyfriend at the time was forced by his parents to see two therapists.  one was his general therapist, the other was to specifically talk about sex.  not necessarily that he was having sex, but just because his parents thought that the fact that he even knew what sex was turned out to be a TREMENDOUS issue...to the point where they would lock him in the car to question him if he had been having sex with anyone.  my point: it fucked him up - he didn't know  WHAT to believe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now, i think therapists are great.  the problem with therapy is that everyone who goes to therapy has the ability to turn anything the therapist says into what they want to hear.  i am guilty of this [guilty as charged...].  i try to be overtly honest, because i think that this is in my best interest.  i'm not ashamed to say i go to a therapist, because i think it makes me a better person to consider that the advances and studies in the field of psychology may actually benefit me.  i mean, these studies are done for a reason...to "figure" people out...to "understand" the synergy between the mind, emotions and the heart.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, what i'm saying is - people get fucked up because they don't actually listen to what the therapist is trying to say, they just take it how they want to take it...and that's the problem.  like i said, i'm guilty.  it's happened to me.  but i observe a lot of people's behaviors and i observe a lot of people who i know go to therapy...and it's not a pretty picture.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then i think, crazy is normal, normal is crazy [einhorn is finkel, finkel is einhorn] so who gives a fuck!  people are nuts, and that's life, there's nothing i can do.  ughhhhh. s i g h ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you see a therapist, just listen to them, do what they say, they are usually right...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**side note** my kids found my myspace page on the history trail on our classroom computer!!!  they are not supposed to be surfing the internet...but there they were, reading about who i want to meet, my general interests and my relationship status.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hilarious and wrong, so very wrong.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-6906833357944360089?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/6906833357944360089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=6906833357944360089' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/6906833357944360089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/6906833357944360089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/03/crazynormal-normalcrazy.html' title='crazy/normal normal/crazy'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-1699501424519532915</id><published>2007-03-12T19:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T19:32:01.289-04:00</updated><title type='text'>is it wednesday yet?</title><content type='html'>only 2 more days of work this week.  woot!  i can't wait to go to CA.  i plan to walk the entire state park and possibly kayak a little bit while zach is in meetings.  the park grounds are supposed to be breathtaking and the buildings were all built by julia morgan.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfXiZrOHRfI/AAAAAAAAAJA/oKY7LPSbDDg/s1600-h/lg_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfXiZrOHRfI/AAAAAAAAAJA/oKY7LPSbDDg/s320/lg_1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041184288637666802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfXiZ7OHRgI/AAAAAAAAAJI/IISCkTOBM_o/s1600-h/lg_9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfXiZ7OHRgI/AAAAAAAAAJI/IISCkTOBM_o/s320/lg_9.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041184292932634114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfXiZ7OHRhI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/sR6JQrMEHWY/s1600-h/lg_10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfXiZ7OHRhI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/sR6JQrMEHWY/s320/lg_10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041184292932634130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday, i napped all day on the couch, and riley laid there with me!  this is exciting news because she hasn't done that since she was about 12 weeks old!  she is finally becoming a real little dog :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-1699501424519532915?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/1699501424519532915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=1699501424519532915' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/1699501424519532915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/1699501424519532915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/03/is-it-wednesday-yet.html' title='is it wednesday yet?'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfXiZrOHRfI/AAAAAAAAAJA/oKY7LPSbDDg/s72-c/lg_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-7492574486110307245</id><published>2007-03-09T20:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T20:58:55.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'>if i had a million dollars...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfIQu7OHRdI/AAAAAAAAAIw/AAzaZNh18VM/s1600-h/V260560_099.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfIQu7OHRdI/AAAAAAAAAIw/AAzaZNh18VM/s320/V260560_099.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040109331337922002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfIQvLOHReI/AAAAAAAAAI4/TQ4CPqXUQ4Q/s1600-h/V262458.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfIQvLOHReI/AAAAAAAAAI4/TQ4CPqXUQ4Q/s320/V262458.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040109335632889314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfIQlbOHRZI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/hs3xtQuN4Ag/s1600-h/710030_mul_frt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfIQlbOHRZI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/hs3xtQuN4Ag/s320/710030_mul_frt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040109168129164690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfIQlbOHRaI/AAAAAAAAAIY/bVaswqs3mpM/s1600-h/740445_gol_frt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfIQlbOHRaI/AAAAAAAAAIY/bVaswqs3mpM/s320/740445_gol_frt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040109168129164706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfIQlbOHRbI/AAAAAAAAAIg/4Gr_3d97qII/s1600-h/760164_whi_frt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfIQlbOHRbI/AAAAAAAAAIg/4Gr_3d97qII/s320/760164_whi_frt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040109168129164722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfIQlrOHRcI/AAAAAAAAAIo/osoB4VOodYE/s1600-h/MKV00ZS_mp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfIQlrOHRcI/AAAAAAAAAIo/osoB4VOodYE/s320/MKV00ZS_mp.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040109172424132034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfIQSrOHRWI/AAAAAAAAAH4/50-JbVs2H0s/s1600-h/63513_gry_frt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfIQSrOHRWI/AAAAAAAAAH4/50-JbVs2H0s/s320/63513_gry_frt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040108846006617442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfIQSrOHRXI/AAAAAAAAAIA/1X6NsyNYqjU/s1600-h/64741_bro_frt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfIQSrOHRXI/AAAAAAAAAIA/1X6NsyNYqjU/s320/64741_bro_frt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040108846006617458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfIQSrOHRYI/AAAAAAAAAII/Vt6h3Lbf1BI/s1600-h/79006_frt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfIQSrOHRYI/AAAAAAAAAII/Vt6h3Lbf1BI/s320/79006_frt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040108846006617474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i like you and you and you and you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sigh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-7492574486110307245?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/7492574486110307245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=7492574486110307245' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7492574486110307245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7492574486110307245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/03/if-i-had-million-dollars.html' title='if i had a million dollars...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RfIQu7OHRdI/AAAAAAAAAIw/AAzaZNh18VM/s72-c/V260560_099.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-3147687288843769797</id><published>2007-03-05T19:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-05T19:18:23.094-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i want you...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/ReyzLX0LYWI/AAAAAAAAAHI/1rJQacaYuRM/s1600-h/pADIDAS1-3234455_pattern_w345a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/ReyzLX0LYWI/AAAAAAAAAHI/1rJQacaYuRM/s320/pADIDAS1-3234455_pattern_w345a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038599091073540450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love you Stella McCartney&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-3147687288843769797?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/3147687288843769797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=3147687288843769797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/3147687288843769797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/3147687288843769797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-want-you.html' title='i want you...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/ReyzLX0LYWI/AAAAAAAAAHI/1rJQacaYuRM/s72-c/pADIDAS1-3234455_pattern_w345a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-5013223787434792671</id><published>2007-03-05T13:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-05T14:00:41.088-05:00</updated><title type='text'>relationships in the time and space continuum</title><content type='html'>Isn't time weird?  Sometimes my children will come in after the weekend, like they did today, and they will have grown several inches.  As adults we completely forget what it's like to grow like that because we are basically the same everyday.  We have probably been the same height since we were about 18, maybe younger.  We stay at status-quo by decade...we pretty much look the same in our 20's, the same in our 30's and so on.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like time has been passing by so quickly.  It's March for heavens sake!  What happened to January and February?  The more I think about it, the more I get freaked out by the fact that I am getting older without realizing.  I guess it's a good thing that I just enjoy my life and don't worry that each day, I am one step closer to death - but still.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was talking to a friend (who is older than me) the other day, she mentioned that as she has gotten older, she has become more disappointed by people who she thought were friends.  Her real friendships have really crystallized with her age and she has been let down more by people as she has gotten older.  This really struck me.  I think about my life-long friends, and how much I miss the ones who don't live near me (even the ones that do live near me)...and how lucky I am to have those connections.  I have realized that a bunch of people in my life do not have these long-term relationships, and that is sad.  I think about how many "friends" I have lost, and how really, those people probably weren't friends, and that is strange.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humans are so interesting.  We are getting older, time flying past us at an extremely &lt;i&gt;fast&lt;/i&gt; rate, and we are always taking things for granted.  We are gaining and losing friends.  We are participating in relationships that are needy or fake and ones that are meaningful and fulfilling.  Why are we doing this?  The ups and downs of friendships are exhausting.  Sometimes we are wasting too much time dealing with drama and sometimes we are not letting tragedy affect us at all.  Sometimes we are feeling sad, guilty or desperate for months and sometimes time flies by so fast that we realized we were actually happy all along.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-5013223787434792671?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/5013223787434792671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=5013223787434792671' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5013223787434792671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5013223787434792671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/03/relationships-in-time-and-space.html' title='relationships in the time and space continuum'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-1284328182266073227</id><published>2007-02-26T14:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T14:10:05.728-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Improv Everywhere is everywhere!</title><content type='html'>I could not be more excited that these cats are getting a huge break! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NBC announces their pilot pick-ups as shown here in &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;A HREF="http://www.variety.com/article/VR1117958301.html?categoryid=1300&amp;cs=1"&gt;Variety&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/b&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three years ago, in a NY bar, I told Charlie Todd that he was hot.  Then I pinched Zach's nipple...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he retaliated by doing the same.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Charlie Todd is friendly but awkward towards me...I wonder why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congrats you guys!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-1284328182266073227?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/1284328182266073227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=1284328182266073227' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/1284328182266073227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/1284328182266073227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/02/improv-everywhere-is-everywhere.html' title='Improv Everywhere is everywhere!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-2712384459622339323</id><published>2007-02-24T22:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-24T23:10:46.265-05:00</updated><title type='text'>boredom anyone?</title><content type='html'>so i have chosen to stay in tonight because i have to read a textbook called &lt;i&gt;Beginnings &amp; Beyond&lt;/i&gt;.  it's not going so well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am taking an exam to test out of two credentials courses i need for my job.  everyone says this test is really easy - but i am feeling a little overwhelmed by having to "study."  which brings me to my point...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thank god i am not in school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there, i said it.  i hate school.  i didn't used to hate school, but somewhere between my junior year of high school and my sophomore year of college, i got burnt out.  i felt less inspired, less creative, even less motivated.  i am so happy that i love my job because i feel like it is really shaping a lot of my personal philosophies on therapy, care and teaching.  i had studied inclusion for so long, and now that i am actually involved in it, my experiences seem so much more valuable than reading articles or textbooks.  most of my therapeutic rec courses centered around all of these theories on recreation within the confining environments of hospitals or structured schooling programs.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i believe deeply in the idea that "play" can teach learning and heal individuals from physical or emotional wounds.  this is a method that may be on its way out because of the demand for children to come to kindergarten already knowing how to write, do math, and have advanced socio-emotional skills.  WHAT?  it was not like this when i was a kid - i was playing soccer and the ever-so-popular "house" with my sister.  i just truly believe that play can teach children anything.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, enough about work, lets talk about beauty.  i am intrigued about the big insurge of shitake mushrooms in face creams.  there are commercials, magazine articles, ads...the whole nine yards.  i might try it out.  i have also become obsessed with my Origins ginger body scrub.  i have tried many great body scrubs/exfoliators including Clinique Body Exfoliator and The Body Shop Almond Scrub...none of them compare to the ginger.  i wasn't originally crazy about the smell of ginger - but it turns out - it's very refreshing.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok, back to reading about children...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-2712384459622339323?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/2712384459622339323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=2712384459622339323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2712384459622339323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2712384459622339323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/02/boredom-anyone.html' title='boredom anyone?'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-343067221453747069</id><published>2007-02-23T00:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-23T00:09:45.262-05:00</updated><title type='text'>just real quick...</title><content type='html'>because im tired...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOLLER to my iO class for their successful win tonight as DEAD MAN PINATA at the DSI CAGEMATCH!  I'm so excited!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come see us next cagematch, March 8th, 8PM, DSI Comedy Theater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rd528v6fHhI/AAAAAAAAAG8/9CWrmidDSS4/s1600-h/io1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rd528v6fHhI/AAAAAAAAAG8/9CWrmidDSS4/s320/io1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034592219472797202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-343067221453747069?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/343067221453747069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=343067221453747069' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/343067221453747069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/343067221453747069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/02/just-real-quick.html' title='just real quick...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rd528v6fHhI/AAAAAAAAAG8/9CWrmidDSS4/s72-c/io1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-2863545059270241138</id><published>2007-02-19T20:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-19T20:24:20.956-05:00</updated><title type='text'>soon.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RdpNnP6fHfI/AAAAAAAAAGk/WgREVbB4r1c/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RdpNnP6fHfI/AAAAAAAAAGk/WgREVbB4r1c/s320/images.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033420870222028274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;markedly thickened membranes with occlusion = me.  great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-2863545059270241138?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/2863545059270241138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=2863545059270241138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2863545059270241138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2863545059270241138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/02/soon.html' title='soon.'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RdpNnP6fHfI/AAAAAAAAAGk/WgREVbB4r1c/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-3643630642657612064</id><published>2007-02-18T16:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-18T17:50:20.890-05:00</updated><title type='text'>holy crap.</title><content type='html'>i just cleaned my entire condo.  i mean the works.  vacuumed, mopped, washed dishes, did laundry, scrubbed the tub, toilet and sink, reorganized my entire hutch, washed linens and remade bed, folded and hung clothes, took out the trash, and finally purged a ton of old magazines and chatchkis. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is all in an effort to avoid reading the textbook i need to go through before i test out of one of my nc birth-kindergarten certifications.  boo.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i finally got to meet zach's friend serge, which has been a highly anticipated event after two years.  and he was great, he surpassed my expectations.  it was also great to hang out with sandy and bret.  holler!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-3643630642657612064?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/3643630642657612064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=3643630642657612064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/3643630642657612064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/3643630642657612064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/02/holy-crap.html' title='holy crap.'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-620173655757034487</id><published>2007-02-14T13:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T14:27:36.380-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Innovations in hCG detection and other things</title><content type='html'>1) &lt;A HREF="http://www.clearblueeasy.com/our_products_digital_pregnancy_test.cfm"&gt;ClearBlue&lt;/A&gt;... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh. My. God.  The ad for this pregnancy test is out of control.  It actually shows a stream of "urine" peeing on the tip.  The advertising for the digital screen that reads "Pregnant" or "Not Pregnant" seems like it's for Star Trek, not a pregnancy test.  The commercial is literally the most hilarious thing I have seen on Television since the Pop-Tart that said "I'm hot for you."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) The festival is over, and all of our guest are now gone...I'm happy and sad.  It was awesome to have four venues this year, though it limited the amount of shows I got to see personally.  I still got to see The Josh&amp;Tamra Show, Death By Roo Roo and Bassprov...so it all worked out goooooooood.  The best part of the festival was that Lo stayed with me.  I love meeting people at festivals, but it was nice to have my BFF there to get my back.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) I have a show Friday, and fun plans for the evening.  Hopefully this Breakroom show will be as fucking kick ass as the last, though that may be tough since we hit the ground running last time and ended flying.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) I'M PSYCHED for Dead Man Pinata to play Cagematch.  Hobert was so excited about taking the picture for the video that he wore a fake mustache and glasses from 1980.  It may be a hodge-podge show, but it is definitely going to be fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Also, I was so happy last night to play characters I never play.  Along with the workshop I did this weekend, character development has been on my plate a lot lately.  And I feel like I really have been working hard to ROCK it.  Using actual Susan Messing suggestions is also really fucking hilarious.  I love that woman.  One of my endowments was Tyrannosaurus-Rex arms and winking after every line.  Though I am also fond of G.I. Joe hands as a trait that defines a character...ahhhh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) I am really excited to be getting back to working on my life, without other bs going on (mainly concerning my mom)...it's great.  Though I'm going to NY in April,  that's still 2 months away.  Lots of changes are taking place, and they are all wonderful.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Happy Valentine's Day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-620173655757034487?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/620173655757034487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=620173655757034487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/620173655757034487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/620173655757034487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/02/innovations-in-hcg-detection-and-other.html' title='Innovations in hCG detection and other things'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-7841339270628567640</id><published>2007-02-10T22:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T19:40:52.420-05:00</updated><title type='text'>one more thing about Mark</title><content type='html'>today he wrote me and said, "Hope you're kick'n ass and tak'n names, improvisationally speaking."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;awww.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-7841339270628567640?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/7841339270628567640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=7841339270628567640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7841339270628567640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7841339270628567640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/02/one-more-thing-about-mark.html' title='one more thing about Mark'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-2621051001318025173</id><published>2007-02-07T19:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T19:40:52.585-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mark</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RcpxghfG-wI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/m5mudQ51m1I/s1600-h/DSCN0223.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RcpxghfG-wI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/m5mudQ51m1I/s320/DSCN0223.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028956737471183618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad just wrote me an email where he used the word "fehkokt."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-2621051001318025173?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/2621051001318025173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=2621051001318025173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2621051001318025173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2621051001318025173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/02/mark.html' title='Mark'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RcpxghfG-wI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/m5mudQ51m1I/s72-c/DSCN0223.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-7330758357910826563</id><published>2007-02-06T23:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-06T23:34:00.040-05:00</updated><title type='text'>try'n to play me out like as if my name was Sega</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RclTFRfG-uI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rNcDYLW0BLU/s1600-h/DSCN0085.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RclTFRfG-uI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rNcDYLW0BLU/s320/DSCN0085.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028641808994204386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;update:  for those of you concerned, the situation with nin and vin has turned out great!  vin is moving into nina's [parent's] house, where she lives.  this is fantastic for all involved, even nina's parents.  i am so excited for them!  thank goodness.  woot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss them.  even when vin does ridiculous things like buy houses and mercedes.  they might come visit this spring after nin gets comfortable taking vacation days at her job.  keep your fingers crossed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;two random stupid things:&lt;br /&gt;1 - i heard house of pain on the way home.  it was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;2 - the fantastic satc episode where berger breaks up w carrie on a post-it, miranda wears skinny jeans, charlotte and harry get engaged and they all get in a bar fight with some ladies from brooklyn because of samantha is on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-7330758357910826563?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/7330758357910826563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=7330758357910826563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7330758357910826563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7330758357910826563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/02/tryn-to-play-me-out-like-as-if-my-name.html' title='try&apos;n to play me out like as if my name was Sega'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RclTFRfG-uI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rNcDYLW0BLU/s72-c/DSCN0085.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-1864075625864584978</id><published>2007-02-05T20:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-05T20:33:46.050-05:00</updated><title type='text'>happo ken?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RcfW0BfG-tI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Ft1QZ8_b5MM/s1600-h/NawaArticle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RcfW0BfG-tI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Ft1QZ8_b5MM/s320/NawaArticle.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028223698222906066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;having been out of ninjutsu for a while, i am psyched to finally be back!  the people at the quest center are awesome.  i am very happy to report there are a bunch of twenty-something ladies who have joined in the past few months, which is fantastic.  i can actually partner with someone my own size...though i kind of like fighting big guys, because most likely, that will be the type of person to attack me on the street - but still it's nice to share some fun with women like me :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really hope that if i ever was attacked, i would be able to have enough strength and piece of mind to put the moves i know into action.  we practice so many sequences, that i think some combination would come out...whether or not it was exactly appropriate, eh who knows.  at the very least i hope it would let me get away from the attacker.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i also realize that i have been itchin to play soccer.  now, if you know me, you know i have a love/hate relationship with soccer.  i love the sport, the game and the fierce exercise, but i despise my own career of 17 years.  when i chose not to play in college, it was a conscious choice.  i love the intense workout, the teamwork, the group mind.  i hate the cut-throat competitive try-outs, the asshole coaches, the over-zealous parents.  regardless, i want to play right now.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*ps* - i'm watching wife swap, and one of the fathers has said [fuck] like eight times and abc has had to mute it out and blur his mouth.  he's mad because his thirteen year-old son is banned from doing motocross.  HA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-1864075625864584978?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/1864075625864584978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=1864075625864584978' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/1864075625864584978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/1864075625864584978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/02/happo-ken.html' title='happo ken?'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RcfW0BfG-tI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Ft1QZ8_b5MM/s72-c/NawaArticle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-2364212473217829045</id><published>2007-02-04T21:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T21:45:41.359-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SSHS</title><content type='html'>"Well, um, actually a pretty nice little Saturday, we're going to go to Home Depot. Yeah, buy some wallpaper, maybe get some flooring, stuff like that. Maybe Bed, Bath, &amp; Beyond, I don't know, I don't know if we'll have enough time." (&lt;i&gt;old school&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ooooh man, i love being reminded of hilarious things that happened in high school.  this was one of my favorite quotes.  along with, "why you trippin off him, derek?" (&lt;i&gt;save the last dance&lt;/i&gt;)  it reminds me of beer pong tournaments and long walks home.  it's funny because in college i felt like i walked home drunk plenty, but the walks always seemed shorter than when i walked home in my own town, when really my town is smaller than chapel hill.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have been thinking a lot about my varsity soccer team in high school.  rituals, routines and behaviors that have now shaped my life.  i'm thinking of changing the structure of my novel to include these aspects because i am realizing how important they were to making me the person that i have become.  here are some stats from the county championships on long island, south side won states most of these years except for 1999.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girls Soccer&lt;br /&gt;COUNTY CHAMPIONS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Nassau                        Suffolk&lt;br /&gt;2006 - Class AA: Massapequa            Sachem East&lt;br /&gt;       Class A: South Side             Islip&lt;br /&gt;       Class B: Wheatley               Center Moriches&lt;br /&gt;       Class C: Friends Academy        xxxxxxxxxxx&lt;br /&gt;          Catholic AA: Sacred Heart        Catholic A: St. John the Baptist&lt;br /&gt;2005 - Class AA: Massapequa            East Islip&lt;br /&gt;       Class A: South Side             Islip&lt;br /&gt;       Class B: Wheatley               Mattituck&lt;br /&gt;       Class C: Friends Academy        Mercy&lt;br /&gt;          Catholic: St. Anthony's&lt;br /&gt;2004 - Class AA: Massapequa            Commack&lt;br /&gt;       Class A:South Side            Huntington&lt;br /&gt;       Class B: Cold Spring Harbor     Babylon&lt;br /&gt;       Class C: Friends Academy        Mattituck&lt;br /&gt;          Catholic: Sacred Heart &lt;br /&gt;2003 - Class AA: Massapequa            Whitman&lt;br /&gt;       Class A: South Side          Huntington&lt;br /&gt;       Class B: Cold Spring Harbor     Eastport/S. Manor&lt;br /&gt;       Class C: Friends Academy        Mattituck&lt;br /&gt;       Class D: none                   Mercy&lt;br /&gt;          Catholic: St. Anthony's &lt;br /&gt;2002 - Class A: South Side           Smithtown&lt;br /&gt;       Class B: Lynbrook               Islip&lt;br /&gt;       Class C: Friends Academy        Mattituck&lt;br /&gt;         Catholic: St. Anthony's &lt;br /&gt;2001 - Class A:South Side             Sachem&lt;br /&gt;       Class B: Garden City            Rocky Point&lt;br /&gt;       Class C: Cold Spring Harbor     Center Moriches&lt;br /&gt;       Class D: none                   Mercy&lt;br /&gt;          Catholic: St. Anthony's&lt;br /&gt;2000 - Class A: South Side             Whitman&lt;br /&gt;       Class B: Valley Stream South    Islip&lt;br /&gt;       Class C: Cold Spring Harbor     Center Moriches&lt;br /&gt;          Catholic: Sacred Heart&lt;br /&gt;1999 - Class A: Massapequa,South Side    Whitman&lt;br /&gt;             (co-champs) &lt;br /&gt;       Class B: New Hyde Park          Sayville&lt;br /&gt;       Class C: Cold Spring Harbor     Mattituck&lt;br /&gt;       Class D: none                   Smithtown Christian&lt;br /&gt;          Catholic: St. Anthony's&lt;br /&gt;1998 - Class A: Massapequa             Whitman&lt;br /&gt;       Class B: South Side            Sayville&lt;br /&gt;       Class C: Cold Spring Harbor     Center Moriches&lt;br /&gt;          Catholic: Sacred Heart                        &lt;br /&gt;1997 - Class A: Massapequa             Northport&lt;br /&gt;       Class B: South Side             Harborfields&lt;br /&gt;       Class C: Cold Spring Harbor     Mattituck&lt;br /&gt;       Class D: none.                  Smithtown Christian&lt;br /&gt;          Catholic: St. Anthony's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, i bought some pink gerber daisies to go in the new vase sandy and bret got me for my birthday, and they look awesome!  they have been my favorite since middle school.  and they were the only flowers my friends and boyfriend ever bought me in high school.  even though i'm poor, one extra expense i &lt;i&gt;will not&lt;/i&gt; cut is fresh flowers.  i really believe they make a huge difference in my mood.  that makes up for the small burp in my day today.  great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RcaZGRfG-sI/AAAAAAAAAFg/fsG9HENFsdU/s1600-h/USA,+Washington+State,+Pink+Gerber+Daisies,+April+2005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RcaZGRfG-sI/AAAAAAAAAFg/fsG9HENFsdU/s320/USA,+Washington+State,+Pink+Gerber+Daisies,+April+2005.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5027874367057885890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-2364212473217829045?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/2364212473217829045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=2364212473217829045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2364212473217829045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2364212473217829045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/02/sshs.html' title='SSHS'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RcaZGRfG-sI/AAAAAAAAAFg/fsG9HENFsdU/s72-c/USA,+Washington+State,+Pink+Gerber+Daisies,+April+2005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-4259843246963138895</id><published>2007-02-03T13:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-03T13:53:41.013-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ilovecheesymoviesmorethaniwouldliketoadmit.</title><content type='html'>My Dad and I LOVE the movie &lt;i&gt;Ten Things I Hate About You&lt;/i&gt;.  Love it.  I'm not as interested in the main storyline about the high school romance as much as I am the storyline about the father being an obstetrician and forbidding the girls to basically do anything involving boys.  Walter Stratford, played by my fellow Long Islander and super-cynic Larry Miller, is a character that reflects my father in so many ways it scares me.  The only difference is, obviously, that my father doesn't win the battles with his two daughters, we pretty much tell him he's crazy and walk off.  But for those of you who don't know my father, he says things exactly like Walter Stratford...and it's hilarious.  In honor of my dad, here are some quotes, courtesy of iMDB:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walter Stratford: [Bianca and Chastity are sneaking past Bianca's father] Shoulda used the window. &lt;br /&gt;Bianca: Hi Daddy. &lt;br /&gt;Walter Stratford: Hi... where're we going? &lt;br /&gt;Bianca: Well, if you must know... a small study group with friends. &lt;br /&gt;Walter Stratford: Otherwise known as an orgy? &lt;br /&gt;Chastity: Mr. Stratford, it's just a party. &lt;br /&gt;Walter Stratford: And hell is just a sauna &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kat Stratford: We're going now. &lt;br /&gt;Walter Stratford: Alright, wait a minute. No drinking, no drugs, no kissing, no tattoos, no piercings, NO ritual animal slaughters of any kind... oh God, I'm giving them ideas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bianca: Can we for two seconds forget the fact that you are severely unhinged and discuss my need for a night of teenage normalcy? &lt;br /&gt;Walter Stratford: What's normal? Those damn Dawson's River kids, sleeping in each other's beds and whatnot? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walter Stratford: I delivered a set of twins to a fifteen-year-old girl today, and you know what she said to me? &lt;br /&gt;Bianca: "I'm a crack-whore who should have made my sleazy boyfriend wear a condom"? &lt;br /&gt;Walter Stratford: Close, she said "I should have listened to my father." &lt;br /&gt;Bianca: She did not. &lt;br /&gt;Walter Stratford: Well, that's what should would have said if she wasn't so doped up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-4259843246963138895?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/4259843246963138895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=4259843246963138895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/4259843246963138895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/4259843246963138895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/02/ilovecheesymoviesmorethaniwouldliketoad.html' title='ilovecheesymoviesmorethaniwouldliketoadmit.'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-8166114036231566543</id><published>2007-02-02T19:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T19:59:24.100-05:00</updated><title type='text'>in addition...</title><content type='html'>to my earlier post...i just deposited my paycheck.  it's confirmed, i'm poor.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;grrrrr...i hate being an adult.  it's stupid.  i still hate you, consequences...tonight i'm calming my body down (due to the stress of my recent poverty) by watching &lt;i&gt;ghost whisperer&lt;/i&gt;.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's funny because i went back and read my earlier post and realized that it seems to have really harsh emotions behind it.  i don't think that the friends that it relates to will ever read this blog, but if they do - i love you nin and vin!  but seriously, vin - get a grip, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok, just wanted to make a mends with the blog king lest nin and vin ever read this...mirage, anyone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-8166114036231566543?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/8166114036231566543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=8166114036231566543' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/8166114036231566543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/8166114036231566543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/02/in-addition.html' title='in addition...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-4603909574991246013</id><published>2007-02-02T14:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T15:23:47.049-05:00</updated><title type='text'>mygoodness!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RcOdxhfG-rI/AAAAAAAAAFU/iSbbn33W7vI/s1600-h/STP60321.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RcOdxhfG-rI/AAAAAAAAAFU/iSbbn33W7vI/s320/STP60321.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5027035083203607218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;[GUILTY SPIDERMAN.]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got back from lunch and it seems that some of my Butterfly friends have forgotten the rules of the Butterfly classroom.  This includes sleeping during naptime and not talking to each other while they are laying on their cots.  Right now, CeCe is blowing her nose very loud to try and wake other children up and Ruthie is complaining that "Gabriel is messing with her."  Really, Gabe is just talking to himself about being Spiderman.  Super.  I love these children, but sometimes I think they have lost their minds.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have almost finished my MS application for UNC, thank god.  I swear I have filled out more applications to Universities than anyone in the world.  I transferred three times and applied to professional school and graduate programs...and now I am applying to a different graduate program...which will be FREE.  &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;FREE.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;FREE!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also been stressed lately about money.  Filing my taxes is ANNOYING.  BOO TO YOU REAL WORLD.  BOOOOO.  I had been in the hole after Christmas, and I have quickly dug myself out, but still...money is bothersome.  I hate bills.  Most of all, I hate paying insurance bills.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It brings me to the point of this blog post, which is: &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;consequences&lt;/span&gt;.  One of the main concepts we are constantly teaching the children in our class is the idea of &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;consequences&lt;/span&gt;.  If you are an adult, you should already know that your actions will inevitably have &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;consequences&lt;/span&gt;.  Children learn this quickly when a  &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;consequence&lt;/span&gt; for hitting a friend is that they are not allowed to go out on the playground or read a book at naptime.  However, I think somtimes adults need to go back to preschool and relearn what a &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;consequence&lt;/span&gt; really means to them.  Example: I spent a lot of money at Christmas on gifts, albeit generous, now I am poor and must eat english muffins, cereal and peanut butter for 2 more weeks.  I can deal with that.  What I cannot deal with is people who call themselves adults, and do not understand that when you fuck up, you have to deal with the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;consequences&lt;/span&gt;.  Usually, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;consequences&lt;/span&gt; are shitty, sometimes they are much worse than we anticipate and there may even be a time that they make us regret a decision we have made so deeply that it feels like we cannot take it.  The point is, humans make mistakes, and it's o.k. but it still doesn't excuse us from dealing with our own actions.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ask my friend Corvalen how it goes...he punched Layla during Circle Time and he was asked to leave the area and calm his body down in Book Center, where he was not allowed to look at the pictures in the story Meredith was reading.  Sometimes we all need to calm our bodies down in Book Center and we are forced to miss out on things we want to do.  Personally, I am missing delicious Carrburritos and tender Filet Mignon.  I hate you, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;consequences&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-4603909574991246013?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/4603909574991246013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=4603909574991246013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/4603909574991246013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/4603909574991246013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/02/mygoodness.html' title='mygoodness!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RcOdxhfG-rI/AAAAAAAAAFU/iSbbn33W7vI/s72-c/STP60321.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-7759053109946007227</id><published>2007-02-01T23:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-01T23:57:53.326-05:00</updated><title type='text'>boo.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RcLCEhfG-pI/AAAAAAAAAE8/uxUufFl9x0A/s1600-h/heart2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RcLCEhfG-pI/AAAAAAAAAE8/uxUufFl9x0A/s320/heart2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5026793517063010962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Thanks, Lily Allen.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHY?  Why, did my tub just break?  Why?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-7759053109946007227?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/7759053109946007227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=7759053109946007227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7759053109946007227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7759053109946007227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/02/boo.html' title='boo.'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RcLCEhfG-pI/AAAAAAAAAE8/uxUufFl9x0A/s72-c/heart2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-2546147030148966293</id><published>2007-01-31T14:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T14:12:14.843-05:00</updated><title type='text'>trip to ewwwwwwww-town</title><content type='html'>i have a really vivid imagination.  it's not a positive thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i often envision images that i DO NOT want to see.  ewwwwwwww. ewwwwwwwwww. ewwwwwwwwwwww.  [throws up a little]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's frustrating me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news, l-train is coming next week...woot!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my iO class is fucking awesome and i think we are going to enter cagematch in late february.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope it snows tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-2546147030148966293?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/2546147030148966293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=2546147030148966293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2546147030148966293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2546147030148966293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/trip-to-ewwwwwwww-town.html' title='trip to ewwwwwwww-town'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-2219557758707359033</id><published>2007-01-29T18:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-29T19:12:04.790-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i miss you, favorite.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rb6H2S6BenI/AAAAAAAAAEk/UwbwymGPmf0/s1600-h/gauguin15.JPG.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rb6H2S6BenI/AAAAAAAAAEk/UwbwymGPmf0/s400/gauguin15.JPG.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025603601049942642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss you, still life of three puppies print.  you were lost in the move from chicago and now i have no idea where you are.  why did your frame have to crack?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss you MoMA and Guggenheim.  i will conquer your new/old location and spiral ramp again soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss you fast-paced, well-rounded, artsy, NY life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was thinking about my mom.  when she came down here this past fall she bought me a gift she thought i would like.  and i do.  my mom is good at buying me gifts based on what she observes that i like, without me having to tell her exactly what to buy.  i'm glad to have a relationship like that with her, that she knows me well enough to do things like that.  she's crazy, too.  but at least i think i turned out to be a good person.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have recently been pondering the statement, "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."  i have been thinking about people i know that are not very nice, do not make good decisions or are just plain stupid.  teaching preschool has opened up my eyes to the fact that parents carry much more weight in shaping their child's life than they think they do.  when i am affected by a person negatively, i tend to think, "wow, your parents are definitely not proud of you right now.  you definitely disappoint them."  repeating that back to myself, i am struck by how harsh it is.  but the only thing i can think is...it's true.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at 23, i believe i, now more than ever, appreciate my parents and what they have done for me.  and though i live my own life, far away from them, i still base a lot of my morals and decisions around what i have been taught, where i came from.  i feel like my parents have worked very hard to give me great opportunities, and i would never want to disrespect them by disrespecting myself by making poor personal decisions.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everybody fucks up...but not everyone knows the extent of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-2219557758707359033?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/2219557758707359033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=2219557758707359033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2219557758707359033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2219557758707359033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-miss-you-favorite.html' title='i miss you, favorite.'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rb6H2S6BenI/AAAAAAAAAEk/UwbwymGPmf0/s72-c/gauguin15.JPG.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-1205070330597647821</id><published>2007-01-27T19:41:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-27T20:01:27.445-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Art</title><content type='html'>I wish for a lot of things.  Recently, however, I have been wanting a bigger apartment only for more wall space.  I also wish that I had more art to put on this wall space.  And this also means I  wish for more money to buy this apartment and this art.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have some art that I really love, and I have some shitty prints that I could stand to live without.  Regardless, I love &lt;A HREF="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=5258929"&gt;THIS&lt;/A&gt; and &lt;A HREF="http://www.kurthalsey.com/star/best.jpg"&gt;THIS&lt;/A&gt;.  And lots of other things.  I also wish that I could find my dad's other black and white photos so that I can rescue them from their current situation in my attic and actually frame them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always loved decorating, and I cannot wait to have a large house to decorate.  I said large.  Hmmmm, seems unlikely right now.  But I can dream.  I really believe that your home should be your sanctuary, your place to relax, to enjoy what's around you, and the people or animals with whom you cohabit.  It should smell, feel and look like you.  I feel like currently, my condo does all of these things...but I just wish I could spend more time at home.  Right now my house fits me, but I have been too busy to fit it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On that thought, I have also been exceptionally tired lately.  I am always tired, but lately I just feel beat.  Driving to Raleigh three times a week is definitely worth it, especially if &lt;A HREF="http://www.myspace.com/iosouth"&gt;The Breakroom&lt;/A&gt; continues to do shows like we did last night...but it has worn me thin.  When I'm not in Raleigh, I am at my dojo, when I'm not there I rehearse at DSI, and in my "spare" time I have been working non-stop on accredidation bullshit for work.  Maybe it's too much?  Eh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-1205070330597647821?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/1205070330597647821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=1205070330597647821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/1205070330597647821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/1205070330597647821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/art.html' title='Art'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-4893809632627299205</id><published>2007-01-27T19:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-27T19:41:11.694-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions</title><content type='html'>Layla was caught using the art center scissors to cut her hair.  There were blond curls all over the classroom floor.  Meredith told her that because of what she did, the scissors would be put away for a week.  She said, "Ok" and skipped away.  No remorse.  So then Meredith made everyone sit down and have a meeting.  She told the children that one of their friends used the scissors to cut their hair.  They all wanted to know who did it, of course.  We didn't tell them.  Meredith said that the scissors would be taken away.  They were all a little upset.  Sarah stands up, head down to the floor.  She said, "Miss Meredith, I have an announcement."  Meredith said ok sarah, go ahead.  Sarah says, "One time, I cut my hair at school...a long, long time ago."  Meredith was trying to hold back her laughter and reassured Sarah that it was o.k., she was not guilty this time, and everyone makes mistakes.  I, however, had to walk out of the classroom so that I could laugh my ass off in the hallway.  Oh, children.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-4893809632627299205?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/4893809632627299205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=4893809632627299205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/4893809632627299205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/4893809632627299205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/confessions.html' title='Confessions'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-3656347163507908979</id><published>2007-01-26T12:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T12:46:32.192-05:00</updated><title type='text'>busy beaver</title><content type='html'>yikes!  i have been so busy lately, i have had zero time really to relax, nevermind blog.  soon i will write a very intriguing entry about a hair-cutting incident in my classroom that was followed with a very sincere and serious confession.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-3656347163507908979?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/3656347163507908979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=3656347163507908979' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/3656347163507908979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/3656347163507908979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/busy-beaver.html' title='busy beaver'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-375014089487178801</id><published>2007-01-23T12:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T12:16:13.941-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick note</title><content type='html'>I'm on break and I wanted to make a reminder to myself that people are crazy.  I'm crazy too...but people who just don't get it are crazier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is crazier a word?  It looks weird.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-375014089487178801?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/375014089487178801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=375014089487178801' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/375014089487178801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/375014089487178801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/quick-note.html' title='Quick note'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-3382827615900263544</id><published>2007-01-22T21:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-22T21:42:14.938-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Something's under my skin...</title><content type='html'>and I have a lot to write about, but I better roll it around a bit more and actually formulate what I'm thinking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-3382827615900263544?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/3382827615900263544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=3382827615900263544' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/3382827615900263544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/3382827615900263544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/somethings-under-my-skin.html' title='Something&apos;s under my skin...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-6762510304786171146</id><published>2007-01-21T16:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-21T16:14:02.825-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Akeelah</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be?"&lt;/i&gt; - Marianne Williamson&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-6762510304786171146?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/6762510304786171146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=6762510304786171146' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/6762510304786171146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/6762510304786171146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/akeelah.html' title='Akeelah'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-2875524522754044219</id><published>2007-01-18T17:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-21T23:29:46.824-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I made a friend.</title><content type='html'>When I first moved to North Carolina, I was appalled at how Southerners view the world, "The North", and pretty much everything else.  I was constantly ridiculed for my accent and thought of as rude because when I spoke my tone sounded rather brash.  I got over it.  But recently, I was getting a massage, and the messuese asked me half-way where I was from...I told her Rockville Centre, NY, and turned out, she was from Port Washington, a mere 20 minutes from my house.  All of a sudden we were best friends, ranting about the frustrations of having heavy accents and being from "The North" in general.  I have realized recently that I am no longer frustrated with myself fitting in here in NC, but rather, people here having a broader view of the world as a whole.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have traveled a good deal, and feel like I am well rounded in terms of my tastes in food, fashion and &lt;i&gt;la mode&lt;/i&gt; in general.  But more importantly, I feel emotionally more mature having met, worked with and studied with people of such varying cultures.  I know more about myself because of my interactions and experiences that took place in cities in the US and abroad.  I know who I am and what I want out of life because I have seen such varied life-styles.  Now, I don't understand myself solely because I have traveled and had a very well-rounded upbringing of course, but it's definitely helped.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I started thinking about my transition to NC, I pondered about some of the places I want to visit or live.  I have lived in New York, Chicago, Chapel Hill/Carrboro and Rome.  I have visited Florence, Naples, Capri, Pompeii, Cinqueterra, and Venice.  I have played soccer and toured Wales and London, and various places in Denmark and Holland.  I have been to many other various U.S. cities and Canada but here are some other adventures I would like to embark on in no particular order...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;U.S.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;San Diego, CA (...again)&lt;br /&gt;Palo Alto, CA&lt;br /&gt;San Francisco, CA&lt;br /&gt;Portland, OR&lt;br /&gt;Jackson Hole, WY&lt;br /&gt;Salt Lake City, UT&lt;br /&gt;Seattle, WA&lt;br /&gt;Las Vegas, NV&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Abroad&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greece (Athens, Mykonos, Chios)&lt;br /&gt;Egypt (Cairo. Luxor, Sinai)&lt;br /&gt;Israel (Jerusalem)&lt;br /&gt;Czech Republic (Prague)&lt;br /&gt;South Africa (cultural tour of cities and AIDS orphanages)&lt;br /&gt;Argentina (Buenos Aires, Mar del Plata)&lt;br /&gt;Belize (Turneffe Atoll)&lt;br /&gt;Australia (Sydney, Tasmania, Victoria)&lt;br /&gt;Japan (Tokyo, Kyoto, Mt. Fuji)&lt;br /&gt;Germany (Hamburg, Cologne)&lt;br /&gt;Switzerland&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok...maybe someday...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-2875524522754044219?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/2875524522754044219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=2875524522754044219' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2875524522754044219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/2875524522754044219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-made-friend.html' title='I made a friend.'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-7906789194674887856</id><published>2007-01-17T18:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-17T19:03:35.945-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What's Up Dad!</title><content type='html'>I was eating a grilled chicken wrap for lunch today at Chick-Fil-A.  U-Mall is always relatively empty during that time, but for some reason, there were more people than usual in Chick-Fil-A.  I sat facing the counter this time instead of facing the mall, so I couldn't see who was coming in behind me.  A heavier hispanic woman came in and was holding the women's bathroom door open looking towards the entrance for a good five minutes.  I didn't bother to turn around and see what she was looking at, and I'm glad I didn't because it would have taken the delight out of my reaction when I saw...the tubby five-year-old hispanic boy wearing a tank-top and shorts sort of waddlely-run in to the open bathroom door.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were in the bathroom together for like ten minutes and I had totally forgotten that they were in there until...the tubby ball of amusement flung open the bathroom door and looked utterly confused.  He started yelling out as loud as he could "Papi!? PAPI!?"  He was looking around for his dad with that look of instant fear that kids get when they are lost or can't find their parents [read: abandonment"].  Then he looked out into the mall and saw his dad sitting at a table in the mall.  His facial expression changed, he lit up, took in a breath so that his rotund little tummy filled and he yelled, "Que tal Papi!  QUE TAL!!"  He went full speed ahead through the restaurant right into his dad's arms.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, it was close to child abuse that he was so severely under-dressed for the suddenly cold weather.  But still hilarious and utterly priceless.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-7906789194674887856?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/7906789194674887856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=7906789194674887856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7906789194674887856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7906789194674887856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/whats-up-dad.html' title='What&apos;s Up Dad!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-6197301919701490005</id><published>2007-01-17T00:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-17T00:27:26.504-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let me tell you a secret...</title><content type='html'>improv is so fucking easy when you aren't thinking about how hard it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's walking with her mind...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Ra2zpC6BeeI/AAAAAAAAAC4/_4BL7WwMJvY/s1600-h/bestth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Ra2zpC6BeeI/AAAAAAAAAC4/_4BL7WwMJvY/s400/bestth.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020866677324216802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-6197301919701490005?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/6197301919701490005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=6197301919701490005' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/6197301919701490005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/6197301919701490005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/let-me-tell-you-secret.html' title='Let me tell you a secret...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Ra2zpC6BeeI/AAAAAAAAAC4/_4BL7WwMJvY/s72-c/bestth.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-3427445803176676452</id><published>2007-01-12T18:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-12T20:54:32.280-05:00</updated><title type='text'>it's all about context</title><content type='html'>you know how when you become friends with someone, you don't actually have a clue who they are?  the only context you know them in is where you meet them, then the idea is to get to know more about them.  find out who they really are.  but initially you are going off of the idea that your gut feeling is accurately telling you that this is someone you want to hang out with.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what's weird is that you could be getting yourself into something huge.  i mean, this person could be an obsessive, weird, neurotic psychopath but you would have no idea...you would only know who they are right then and there, in the context of your relationship.  you may know them from a class, or work or the gym.  but previous to you knowing them, they could have been a horrible person.  they could be a killer.  they could be a stalker.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am a complete believer in the fact that people can change.  however, i am a bigger believer in honesty.  would you want to be friends with someone who has done something horribe that you didn't know about?  that depends - have they changed?  have they openly admitted what they did?  are they aware of the fact that it was horrible?  who knows, right?  that's why context is so scary, it's tricky.  it let's people pretend to be someone they're not, and hide their true-selves behind some persona, whether it be fake gym-jock or introverted workaholic.  whatever it is, it is pretty scary to think about skeletons in the closet.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;personally, i know i judge people.  everyone does.  i admit that i do.  and if you tell me something horrible or secretive that you are hiding, i will not be able to accept that you have changed until you prove that you are not the same person who committed said horrible act.  maybe that's harsh.  but i have realized that i cannot be as open to letting people into my world anymore.  relationships and friendships do not mean what they used to mean...and that's just the truth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-3427445803176676452?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/3427445803176676452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=3427445803176676452' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/3427445803176676452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/3427445803176676452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/its-all-about-context.html' title='it&apos;s all about context'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-3053605876410000047</id><published>2007-01-11T22:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-11T22:23:23.720-05:00</updated><title type='text'>rooted</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rab_Bi6BeaI/AAAAAAAAACI/QuF6pn4ACjE/s1600-h/reachth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rab_Bi6BeaI/AAAAAAAAACI/QuF6pn4ACjE/s400/reachth.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018979236766120354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think about patterns a lot.  ups and downs.  rollercoasters and sailboats.  my parents are great people.  they rock and they will do anything to support me.  i often feel guilty that i'm crazy about certain things because they have embedded particular patterns into my head.  i hate that i feel like it's their fault.  however, something i've learned teaching preschool is that children are just children.  they are completely dependent on their parents to teach them, to guide them.  when parents don't do these things, or do them very poorly, it's downright sad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;point is, everyone has their issues.  most people's are normal, run of the mill anxieties that stem from the way their parents raised them or failed to raise them.  i realize that i am no exception.  my scars are deep.  boo-hoo right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eh, mildy wrong.  even the smallest issues can mess up your interactions with people, relationships, friendships.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fixing these problems is hard work, and it is absolutely exhausting.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;feeling like you are becoming your own whole, confident, independent person is awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-3053605876410000047?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/3053605876410000047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=3053605876410000047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/3053605876410000047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/3053605876410000047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/rooted.html' title='rooted'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/Rab_Bi6BeaI/AAAAAAAAACI/QuF6pn4ACjE/s72-c/reachth.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-7737227605461658132</id><published>2007-01-10T00:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-10T00:36:33.237-05:00</updated><title type='text'>d e c e m b e r</title><content type='html'>I want this.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I'm bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's stupid and materialistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who cares.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RaR0cC6BeXI/AAAAAAAAABk/MyZgd4Jgnuc/s1600-h/DYY6981_mn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RaR0cC6BeXI/AAAAAAAAABk/MyZgd4Jgnuc/s400/DYY6981_mn.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018263909962971506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blue Topaz is my birthstone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-7737227605461658132?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/7737227605461658132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=7737227605461658132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7737227605461658132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/7737227605461658132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/one-more-thing.html' title='d e c e m b e r'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RaR0cC6BeXI/AAAAAAAAABk/MyZgd4Jgnuc/s72-c/DYY6981_mn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-5918921293981533905</id><published>2007-01-09T22:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T22:53:47.297-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Say Goodnight George...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RaRhuV8GybI/AAAAAAAAABM/xRhBBVtGAlg/s1600-h/gracie210.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RaRhuV8GybI/AAAAAAAAABM/xRhBBVtGAlg/s400/gracie210.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018243333588699570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I had nightmares...but you know, good ones..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, yea?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yea, I was thinkin, playin it out in my head...you would make a good George Burns [points at Zach] and you would make a good Gracy Allen [points at Me]."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Laughter ensues]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, I'm serious."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;i&gt;George Bernard Cunningham&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is he so fantastic?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;s e r i o u s l y&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-5918921293981533905?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/5918921293981533905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=5918921293981533905' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5918921293981533905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/5918921293981533905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/say-goodnight-george.html' title='Say Goodnight George...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RaRhuV8GybI/AAAAAAAAABM/xRhBBVtGAlg/s72-c/gracie210.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-212012010416210495</id><published>2007-01-08T18:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-08T19:27:26.781-05:00</updated><title type='text'>t i m e   s t a n d s    s t i l l</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RaLSmF8GyYI/AAAAAAAAAAw/6asrq7ABrnE/s1600-h/NunsHavingFun2007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RaLSmF8GyYI/AAAAAAAAAAw/6asrq7ABrnE/s400/NunsHavingFun2007.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017804486715296130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have been so wrapped up in being sick lately that my life has spun a bit out of control.  i finally bought a calendar and i filled in everything i know i have planned from now through march.  yikes!  my life was on hold for so long because of my pneumonia that i cannot remember what my schedule was like before...just thinking about it makes me exhausted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just got back from taking riley on a long walk/run.  i am training her to walk better on a leash, normally she just runs around like a maniac, and i'm o.k. with it.  but since she has not grown out of jumping up on people and biting them, it was time for a new regime.  she doesn't love it because she chokes herself, but oh well.  she's still learning to run on the leash...but hopefully she'll get that soon.  also i can't move my body because i just did a pilates workout that kicked my ass - but that feels good.  i will also say that my new iPod has changed my life.  my mini was such a piece of shit.  BUT newer versions of iTunes and the fact that i know how to use it and my red iPod are ALL super.  anyway, it's made me so much more motivated to walk riley longer and run longer.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am going to attempt the morning yoga class at my dojo this week, as well.  we'll see what happens with getting up earlier than 7am on a workday...it might be short-lived.  sigh...affordable yoga that is not at the Y - where are you?  i'm also thinking about buying a sword - errrrr - maybe.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i posted earlier that i don't have any real resolutions...but i realize that i actually have many things i want to accomplish by the end of 2007.  i've posted them on the sidebar in hopes to remind myself and motivate myself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;goooooooooooooo kate!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-212012010416210495?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/212012010416210495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=212012010416210495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/212012010416210495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/212012010416210495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/t-i-m-e-s-t-n-d-s-s-t-i-l-l.html' title='t i m e   s t a n d s    s t i l l'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RaLSmF8GyYI/AAAAAAAAAAw/6asrq7ABrnE/s72-c/NunsHavingFun2007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-8386336290389055309</id><published>2007-01-07T22:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-07T22:14:08.426-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bakery</title><content type='html'>This will be an adventure.  Chapel Hill needs a good bakery.  I happen to know how to run a small food business.  We'll see where it takes me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RaG27F8GyWI/AAAAAAAAAAY/BGAXDnk94wk/s1600-h/chain_279341_view_item1_box2-250.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RaG27F8GyWI/AAAAAAAAAAY/BGAXDnk94wk/s400/chain_279341_view_item1_box2-250.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017492586190260578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RaG27V8GyXI/AAAAAAAAAAg/FkyUfgkBauQ/s1600-h/chain_279341_view_item2_box1-250.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RaG27V8GyXI/AAAAAAAAAAg/FkyUfgkBauQ/s400/chain_279341_view_item2_box1-250.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017492590485227890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-8386336290389055309?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/8386336290389055309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=8386336290389055309' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/8386336290389055309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/8386336290389055309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/bakery.html' title='Bakery'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RaG27F8GyWI/AAAAAAAAAAY/BGAXDnk94wk/s72-c/chain_279341_view_item1_box2-250.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-8895296492246688320</id><published>2007-01-05T18:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-05T18:21:55.681-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Flashlight Dance Party</title><content type='html'>Besides the food poisoning and how overwhelmingly tired I am, I feel good.  It's weird, whenever I make a great personal breakthrough, I immediately feel tired, but then awesome.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since it was rainy all day and my kids couldn't play on the playground, we stayed inside.  This was a fantastic decision because it led to a Butterfly preschoolers flashlight dance party.  No overheads, just flashlights and Proud Mary (the kids favorite song, seriously), which they calling, "Rollin."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also wanted to record this interchange:&lt;br /&gt;4 year old Sarah and I are doing a Solar System puzzle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Here Sarah, I think this piece fits over there.&lt;br /&gt;Sarah: Thanks Miss Kate.  [Puts it in] Yes!  It fits!&lt;br /&gt;Me: Look, I think it's the space station.&lt;br /&gt;Sarah: Ummmm, Miss Kate...that's a satellite, it orbits the earth.  &lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RZ7daF8GyVI/AAAAAAAAAAM/n7Fi03NAPKM/s1600-h/DSCN0126.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RZ7daF8GyVI/AAAAAAAAAAM/n7Fi03NAPKM/s320/DSCN0126.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016690475277928786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"and i never lost one minute of sleep, worrying bout the things that might have been..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-8895296492246688320?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/8895296492246688320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=8895296492246688320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/8895296492246688320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/8895296492246688320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/flashlight-dance-party.html' title='Flashlight Dance Party'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ht6NMvzwwCE/RZ7daF8GyVI/AAAAAAAAAAM/n7Fi03NAPKM/s72-c/DSCN0126.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-64399524909800834</id><published>2007-01-04T01:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-04T01:19:44.698-05:00</updated><title type='text'>from real life?</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry&lt;br /&gt;You don't know how lovely you are.&lt;br /&gt;I had to find you, tell you I need you,&lt;br /&gt;Tell you I set you apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions,&lt;br /&gt;Oh lets go back to the start.&lt;br /&gt;Running in circles, Comin' up Tails&lt;br /&gt;Heads on a science apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody said it was easy,&lt;br /&gt;It's such a shame for us to part.&lt;br /&gt;Nobody said it was easy,&lt;br /&gt;No one ever said it would be this hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh take me back to the start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just guessin' at numbers and figures,&lt;br /&gt;Pulling your puzzles apart.&lt;br /&gt;Questions of science, science and progress&lt;br /&gt;Do not speak as loud as my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And tell me you love me, come back and haunt me&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I rush to the start.&lt;br /&gt;Runnin' in circles, Chasin' up Tails&lt;br /&gt;Comin' back as we are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody said it was easy,&lt;br /&gt;Oh it's such a shame for us to part.&lt;br /&gt;Nobody said it was easy,&lt;br /&gt;No one ever said it would be so hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm goin' back to the start&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- coldplay&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-64399524909800834?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/64399524909800834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=64399524909800834' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/64399524909800834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/64399524909800834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/from-real-life.html' title='from real life?'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-116785007447063938</id><published>2007-01-03T13:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T13:48:25.190-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Chinese Food No More</title><content type='html'>for the first time in my life, i have food poisoning.  it is an awful experience.  i don't just have an upset stomach, i have every freakin symptom.  nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, chills, sweats, fever, headache, dehydration...the works.  i went to work yesterday thinking that my stomach was tied in knots because it was the first day back to work, that was nullified when i broke out into a sweat and had to sprint to the bathroom.  grooooooosssssssssssssss.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;goodbye holiday weight.  i know, i know...my weight loss methods are completely uncanny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-116785007447063938?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/116785007447063938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=116785007447063938' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/116785007447063938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/116785007447063938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/chinese-food-no-more.html' title='Chinese Food No More'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-116763546226842642</id><published>2007-01-01T01:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-01T02:11:02.280-05:00</updated><title type='text'>get out your calendar</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7473/3684/1600/940048/7cold%20hors%20d%27oeuvres_jpg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7473/3684/400/802656/7cold%20hors%20d%27oeuvres_jpg.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thank god 2006 is over.  unvalidated.  unappreciated.  still awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok that said, i need a new calendar.  i realize that i have loaded stuff pretty heavily on myself, and i may not be able to do it all.  but i guess it's good that i'm so busy...woot!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no resolutions.  i feel like i have so much going on that it is silly to try and resolve myself to do or not do something this year...maybe just keeping my shit together is enough, huh?  i need to save more money this year for: trips, birthday gifts and laughter yoga teacher training.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i would like to take riley for longer walks, but that's not really a resolution, more of just a comment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-116763546226842642?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/116763546226842642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=116763546226842642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/116763546226842642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/116763546226842642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2007/01/get-out-your-calendar.html' title='get out your calendar'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-116743428075926198</id><published>2006-12-29T18:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-29T18:18:00.770-05:00</updated><title type='text'>m u i r f i e l d</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7473/3684/1600/458606/DSCN0217.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7473/3684/400/410453/DSCN0217.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; arnold's is now a chicken place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7473/3684/1600/703067/DSCN0212.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7473/3684/400/2581/DSCN0212.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; presents!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7473/3684/1600/200640/DSCN0209.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7473/3684/400/343153/DSCN0209.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; annual brunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7473/3684/1600/887565/DSCN0219.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7473/3684/400/71219/DSCN0219.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 1 1 5 . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7473/3684/1600/161181/DSCN0223.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7473/3684/400/693866/DSCN0223.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; spawn of satan and dad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-116743428075926198?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/116743428075926198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=116743428075926198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/116743428075926198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/116743428075926198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2006/12/m-u-i-r-f-i-e-l-d.html' title='m u i r f i e l d'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-116681765297825264</id><published>2006-12-22T14:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-22T15:00:52.993-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Rock, The Family and Lo</title><content type='html'>After a record long time of 10.5 hours in the car, I finally made it to good ole Rockville Centre, affectionately known to it's young adult residents as The Rock.  There was so much traffic on the Belt Parkway yesterday that I was stuck in a place about 15 minutes from my house for an hour and a half.  I stared at the Welcome to Brooklyn sign that reads "How Sweet It Is!" for a half hour.  Most people never notice that sign, but it's hilarious.  Most people don't notice the sign on the Belt leaving Brooklyn that says, (and I'm serious) "Leaving Brooklyn: Fuhgeddaboudit."  Google Image search them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my mom was of course waiting at the door for me (well, really she was waiting for Riley), and then gave me a hug for about 20 minutes.  She has attachment issues and a severe case of empty nest syndrome.  Mostly I just hung out because I didn't feel to well and thought about how much I loathe the inhabitants of The Rock, excluding my few good friends.  I've posted a picture of my parents at their wedding because my dad just scanned it in, and I love my dad's pants.  Go Mark!  Woot!  To my delight, my dad was being his hilarious overly-cynical self when I arrived, making for some great eye-rolling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7473/3684/1600/21307/M%2BMWed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7473/3684/400/734373/M%2BMWed.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to go see Lo today!  I was supposed to go last night, but since I was feeling shitty and I was cranky, I postponed my visit to BK.  Anyway I can't wait to see her and her new apartment!  I have been missing her so much lately and I feel like we never get a chance to really talk because we are so busy, and I am irresponsible about calling her back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7473/3684/1600/514372/DSIF502260501.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7473/3684/400/852815/DSIF502260501.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I got a bagel with Beef and we wrapped some presents.  I'm just hanging out until Lauren is done at work, and Beef ditched me to go buy a present for her boyfriend.  He doesn't do anything but play video games and lacrosse, gamble in AC, and be a genius without trying...so he's impossible to shop for.  I felt like posting this picture of her I also just found on the home computer.  She was so cute.  Now she's the devil...go figure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7473/3684/1600/118919/Beth6-86.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7473/3684/400/745270/Beth6-86.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-116681765297825264?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/116681765297825264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=116681765297825264' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/116681765297825264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/116681765297825264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2006/12/rock-family-and-lo.html' title='The Rock, The Family and Lo'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33543401.post-116664683370404726</id><published>2006-12-20T15:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-20T15:33:53.716-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Amygdala Seesaw</title><content type='html'>here's something interesting i've been thinking about...the idea of trusting no one.  weird right?  i have come to realize that even when people say they trust something, they don't.  of course, i have made the foolish mistake of trusting people when i shouldn't have, but who hasn't?  however, the mere fact that i have to state, "but who hasn't" means that there are loads of people who cannot be trusted, who can never trust anyone themselves and who have been trusted and then fucked it up.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now, dear reader, why should we trust anyone?  i know, i know, i'm being ridiculous and cynical and unhealthy - but there is some merit to truly believing, "every (wo)man for (her)himself."  with the season of love and giving around us, i have tried to to embrace those important to me, but have constantly been second guessing myself with thoughts like "do they think of me in that way?"  sometimes, the answer is, no. no they do not.  they care more about another friend and less about you, they'd fight for another friend, but not for you.  interesting isn't it? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know i have some great friends, but i also know that i have some friends that are full of shit.  they pretend to support me because they know that's the "right" thing to do, but when it comes down to it, i'm probably not at the top of their list. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it makes me wonder, who's list am i, in fact, at the top of?  that may sound insecure, and it's not meant to, i do realize that i have some great people in my life...but s e r i o u s l y ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33543401-116664683370404726?l=rileyfilet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/feeds/116664683370404726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33543401&amp;postID=116664683370404726' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/116664683370404726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33543401/posts/default/116664683370404726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rileyfilet.blogspot.com/2006/12/amygdala-seesaw.html' title='Amygdala Seesaw'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12402328813374122952</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
